


That's How You Know

by Rod13369



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Romance, Slow Burn, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 40,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rod13369/pseuds/Rod13369
Summary: Regina didn't plan to chaperone this field trip to New York City. She also didn't plan to run in to Emma Swan for the first time in eight years. Slow burn SwanQueen. AU from mid-season 3.





	1. Tuesday: An Unplanned Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> First ever Once Upon a Time fic!

As the students wander off in pairs and trios, Regina Mills takes a deep breath. This isn’t the first time a group of teens from Storybrooke have visited New York City, but it is the first time the former queen has chaperoned the trip. She hadn’t been part of the original group. Difficulties between the Merry Men and the Lost Boys (most of whom are really getting too old for that title) meant that Robin couldn’t leave town, and Roland had used his puppy dog eyes, and before she quite knew what was happening Regina found herself agreeing to taking the archer’s place as one of the adults in charge.

Thankfully, the students are old enough they don’t need constant supervision. Ashley laid down the ground rules, they listened with an amazing amount of patience given their ages, and now they have several hours to explore before they have to meet up for dinner. Frederick and Ashley politely offered that Regina could join them as they wandered around, but neither looked too upset when she declined. She may no longer be the Evil Queen, but hanging around with her former subjects still seems to put everyone on edge.

Thankfully, the area the students are to stay within includes a small park. As they head for streets and shops, Regina turns to paths and trees. As green spaces go, it’s not much, but to someone who grew up in a place called the Enchanted Forest it provides a welcome reprieve from concrete and steel. Regina picks a direction and starts walking, enjoying the sights along the way: Battles of wits at the chess tables, children running and climbing at the playground, a family having a picnic in the shade of a large tree, couples walking together, wrapped up in their own little worlds. Regina feels a hint of nostalgia at the sight. It’s been a long time since she and Robin took a walk… Shaking her head, Regina shifts her focus instead to a pair of squirrels chasing each other through the trees.

Someone barrels into her from behind, pushing her to the ground. Even disoriented from the fall, Regina still catches a glimpse of jeans and a t-shirt as the person responsible for this change in perspective continues running down the path. A heartbeat later, another figure follows, clad in black and red, blonde hair streaming out behind. Regina lifts herself to hands and knees as the latter tackles the former. By the time Regina gets to her feet, her erstwhile assailant has their arms twisted behind their back. Blondie shifts, and Regina catches a flash of silver as cuffs lock into place. Blondie stands up, hauling the other person to his feet. A voice carries to Regina across the short distance, informing the prisoner of his rights, but the exact words don’t register. _That voice_ … The pair in front of her swings around, and over the shoulder of some loser, Regina meets Emma Swan’s eyes for the first time in eight years.

* * *

 

A spark of something races through Detective Emma Swan’s system as she meets the brunette’s eyes, something equal parts lust and intrigue, with an odd sense of déjà vu mixed in. _Whoa!_ Emma shakes herself slightly to clear her thoughts. Yes, the woman intrigues her, but right now Emma has a suspect in custody. It wasn’t much of a chase, but she’ll still need to catch up with… A familiar face appears on the path, moving at a trot. “Sorry Swan,” the other detective calls as she passes the mystery brunette. “Thought he was headed down a different path.”

Normally, Emma would toss off a witty retort, leading to good-natured banter as they walked the perp back to their car. But Emma’s attention still pulls towards the woman up the path, the one pretending to straighten herself up after her fall but keeps watching Emma. So all Emma can say to her partner is, “No worries, Maza. Can you take Mister Pace back to the car?”

From the way Elisa looks at her, Emma knows her partner can tell something’s off. They have a quick, wordless conversation before Elisa says, “sure thing,” gets a grip on Pace’s upper arm, and steers him back down the path. Emma follows a couple of steps behind, not really attempting to hide the fact that she’s headed for the bystander. Said bystander suddenly makes a show of straightening her jacket and purse, and Emma has to swallow a laugh before asking, “Are you alright, ma’am? Do you need me to call EMS?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Her voice hits Emma right in the gut: A little deep, a slight rasp, confident. _Sexy._ “I’m perfectly fine, Miss…” she trails off as she finally looks at Emma again.

“Swan. Detective Emma Swan.” Emma offers her hand.

The brunette’s eyebrow twitches, like she can’t quite believe what she just heard. “My apologies, Detective,” she says as she grasps Emma’s hand. Her skin is soft and warm against Emma’s.

“Accepted, Miss…”

“Mills. Regina Mills.”

“Miss Mills. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” Somewhat reluctantly, Emma lets go of the other’s hand so she can pull out her notebook. It’s a flimsy excuse to keep talking to this woman, but she’ll milk it for all it’s worth.

Now Mills’ eyebrow does arch. “About what?”

“You saw the man I arrested?” A nod. “He was hanging around the park for a while this morning. Did you see him with anyone?”

To her credit, Mills actually thinks before responding. “I think I saw him loitering near the chess tables when I first started walking, but I don’t recall seeing anyone with him.”

Emma feels her lip twitch at the way the other woman talks. Between her vocabulary and her clothes (black jacket over a red blouse and dark blue pants), Mills clearly comes from money. Probably has a job to match, too. Emma gives herself a slight shake to chase the errant thoughts away and dutifully writes the information down. “Anything else?”

“No, I didn’t pay much attention to him until he ran me over.”

“Witness’s sense of humor intact,” Emma states, pretending to write in her notebook, which earns her a small snort. She glances up to see Mills fighting a smile. Emma grins, and Mills gives in to her own. _Gorgeous._ “Seriously, though, are you hurt at all?”

“I’m fine, Detective.” Now it’s Emma’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “A little rattled, maybe,” Mills amends. “I didn’t expect to talk to the police during this trip.”

“You from out of town?” A nod. “Hopefully this encounter hasn’t put you off the city.” Mills merely tilts her head to the side, as if to say, _we’ll see._ “Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” _however much I might want to._ “If you think of anything,” Emma reaches into her pocket for a business card, “you can reach me here.” She passes the card over. Mills hesitates for the slightest moment before taking it. Before she can overthink it, Emma blurts, “Miss Mills, have we met?”

“I don’t think so,” Mills replies, studying the business card. “I’m new to the city.”

Emma waits a moment to see if her superpower activates, the built-in lie detector that makes her such a good cop. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes when nothing happens. “You just seem… familiar, somehow.” Mills finally looks at her again, and thankfully doesn’t appear to be put off by her odd behavior. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my mind.” Now Mills is smirking at her. Emma skin tightens as goose bumps race up and down her arms at the sight. “How long are you in the city?”

“One week.”

_That’s not nearly long enough._ “May I?” Emma motions to the card in the other woman’s hand. Mills passes it back. Emma quickly flips it over and scribbles on the back. “Ignore this if you want, but it’s my personal cell phone. I can be a pretty decent tour guide.” She holds the card back out, heart pounding.

Time stands still as Mills looks at the card. A long moment later, she takes it back. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says.

Suddenly dizzy, Emma smiles again. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Mills.”

“You too, Detective.”

* * *

 

Regina sits on her bed at the hotel, staring alternately at her phone and the business card that lies next to it on the bedspread. This little piece of cardstock weighed down her pocket all afternoon and evening, distracting her all through dinner and the meeting that followed, outlining the coming days’ activities. Since last night passed on the bus from Storybrooke, tonight they merely got everyone checked in to the hotel, reminded them of the rules, and sent them to their rooms.

Regina did briefly surface from her tangled thoughts to deal with booking a room for herself. According to the original chaperone arrangements, Robin and Frederick would have shared, with Ashley on her own. It took Regina a moment to realize that she was now expected to share a room with Ashley, as per the budget. But she played the former-mayor/former-queen card and used her own money to procure a room for herself. It’s a bit cramped, but she’s the only one in there, so it’s worth it. Besides, she saw the room Ashley has, and even with a second bed it’s not much larger. Anyway, Ashley looked rather relieved with how things turned out.

The moment she stepped in the room, Regina put her purse and Emma’s card on the bed, hoping that some physical distance, however small, would calm her mind. She unpacked her suitcase, put her toiletries in the bathroom, and went through her nightly routine, trying to purge the swirl of thoughts from her head.

It didn’t work.

Two hours later, and Regina’s mind races faster than ever. Somewhat surprisingly, the number Emma scribbled is _not_ the same one saved in Regina’s phone; she never could bring herself to delete that particular item in her contacts list. Robin asked her about it once. She fed him some line about how she hadn’t realized that it was still there, and she’d get around to it eventually. When Snow noticed, Regina admitted she didn’t like losing the link to Henry, even though neither he nor Emma remembered her anymore. Then Snow revealed that she also had saved Emma’s number for the same reason, and Regina didn’t know whether to feel relieved or ill.

As stupid as it seems now, it didn’t really occur to Regina that coming to New York might mean running into Emma. Oh, she may have secretly hoped it would happen, but in a city of eight-and-a-half-million people, how likely _was_ such a meeting? Math was never Regina’s strong suit (something Henry had been quick to point out whenever he needed help with homework), but even she had known the odds against such a meeting were almost impossibly high.

Maybe someone used pixie dust on her again.

She snorts at the thought. Tinker Bell is back in Storybrooke, the fairies are as stingy as ever when it comes to using their dust, and Regina highly doubts it would work outside of Storybrooke anyway. And didn’t the fairy once tell her that each person only got one dust-ordained soul mate?

Regina shakes her head, banishing that question and all of its implications to some dark corner of her mind. Those are thoughts for another time, preferably not in the near future. For now, she needs to decide what to do about the current situation. The fact of the matter is Regina has one week in New York City. Emma knows she’s here, and has basically issued an open invitation for spending time together. As much as Regina might like to spend all of her time with the detective, they both have jobs to do. And while Emma may not worry about her coworkers, Regina finds that she doesn’t want to tell Ashley or Frederick about her encounter just yet. The students don’t worry her quite as much; most of them never knew Emma, or are too young to remember her properly.

Taking a deep breath, Regina snatches her phone up and dials Emma’s number before she can overthink herself to death. It rings once, twice, and then Emma’s voice speaks. “Detective Swan.”

“Good evening Detective. This is…”

“Miss Mills!” Is it Regina’s imagination, or does Emma sound excited? “How is our fair city treating you?”

Slightly taken aback by the other’s quick familiarity, it takes Regina a moment to formulate a response. “So far, so good. Thankfully, I’ve had no more run-ins with its lower class.”

Emma chuckles in response. The sound warms Regina. “I’m glad to hear it. Although it does make me wonder why you’re calling a detective.”

_Don’t overthink_. “I find myself in need of a tour guide.”

“Really?” Regina swears she can hear the smile in Emma’s voice. “What would you like to see?”

“Preferably, some of the nicer restaurants, not the typical tourist traps.” Most days, the kids are on their own for lunch or dinner, so this won’t pull Regina away from her chaperone duties. Hopefully, it doesn’t come off as too forward.

“I can meet you for lunch tomorrow,” Emma replies. “Any idea where in the city you’ll be?”

“I’m spending the morning at the Museum of Natural History.” Is this actually going to work?

“Ooo, I know this great little place nearby. Does twelve-thirty work for you?”

“It does.” Regina listens carefully as Emma describes how to find the place. “That sounds perfect,” she says as Emma finishes. “I look forward to seeing you there.”

“Me too.” Regina hears a faint noise from the other end of the line. “Sorry, I have to take care of that. Good night, Miss Mills.”

“Good night Detective.”


	2. Wednesday: Lunch (and maybe more?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, nearly 300 views in a week! Thank you to all who have left kudos, subscribed, bookmarked the story, and especially those who have left comments.

“So what brings you to New York?” Emma asks over lunch. She’s having her usual burger and fries.

Across the table, Regina (“Please, call me by my first name.”) has a large house salad in front of her. “Every fall, a group of students comes down to the city for a week-long field trip. One of the chaperones backed out at the last minute, and I was asked to step in.”

“How old are these kids?”

“It’s a mix of eighth, ninth, and tenth graders.” Regina smirks. “Old enough to be turned loose for a couple of hours, young enough to not get into too much trouble.”

“I don’t know,” says Emma, “some of my son’s classmates managed to get into quite a bit of trouble at that age.” She cringes as the words leave her mouth; Regina doesn’t need to hear about what idiots Henry and his friends were at that age. Thankfully, that’s not what the brunette latches on to.

“Your son?”

Emma smiles. “Yeah. Henry.”

“How old is he?”

“He just had his twentieth birthday.” She quickly digs into her jacket for her phone. Unlocking it, she pulls up one of the most recent photos of Henry, from just before the current semester started. “Here he is.” She passes the phone over to Regina.

The other woman seems almost hesitant to take the phone, but does so when Emma nods. She smiles as she looks at the photo, a mother’s smile. “He’s very handsome.”

“I know, right? Clearly my genes at work.”

“Are you saying his father wasn’t handsome?” Regina glances up from the screen. Emma just shrugs. “May I?” Regina mimes swiping across the phone, and Emma nods assent.

“So do you have any kids?” Emma asks before taking a bite of her burger.

“None of my own,” Regina replies. She laughs and turns the phone to face Emma. Emma laughs, too: The picture shows a sleeping Henry, covered in a pink blanket and with a purple tiara perched on his head. “Who did that to him?”

Emma reaches out for the phone, swipes a couple of times to find the picture she wants. She passes the phone back to Regina as she answers, “His little sister.”

* * *

 

Regina accepts the phone on autopilot as her brain struggles to process what she just heard. _Henry has a little sister._ She looks at the phone, buying time to recover. The photo shows Henry, about the same age as the last one, with a small child sitting on his shoulders. A sparkly tiara tops the little one’s wild blonde hair. Her hands clasp her big brother’s hair, and his hands grasp her ankles. Both are smiling widely for the camera. Regina feels her heart clench at the sight, though she doesn’t quite know why. “She’s beautiful,” she tells Emma. (“If I’m going to call you Regina, it’s only fair you call me Emma.”) “What’s her name?”

“Mara.” Emma smiles as only a proud parent can.

Regina hesitates, not quite sure how to get the information she desperately wants. “Does she…”

“Have the same father as Henry? No.” Thankfully, Emma doesn’t seem upset at the question. Then again, she doesn’t remember that Regina knew Neal Cassidy. “Her dad disappeared before she was born.”

“Disappeared?” Regina spots the look on Emma’s face. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. Walsh and I were together for eight months before we got engaged. I found out I was pregnant about a month after that. He vanished a few days later.” Regina raises an eyebrow. “I know what you’re thinking: Guy learns he’s going to be a father, gets cold feet, runs away. But I hadn’t told him yet. He just didn’t show up for dinner one night.”

“I assume you looked for him.” It’s a ridiculous statement, and Regina knows it.

So does Emma. “Duh! Come on, you really think someone wouldn’t?” The derision fades from her voice. “I looked until Mara was born. But I found nothing. It was like he never even existed. And then I was too busy being mom to both a newborn and a teenager to keep worrying about it.”

“That can’t have been easy.” Even though she barely knew him as an adolescent, Regina feels like Henry’s little rebellious streak when he brought Emma in to their lives was a harbinger of things to come. And he hadn’t always been the easiest baby. Her stomach clenches: She gave Emma the memories of raising him, but had those passed-on lessons worked?

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Emma replies. “Compared to the first time around,” Regina’s insides clench again, “this one was a lot easier. My team at the precinct is like a family, and some of Henry’s friend’s parents helped out, too. And besides, I remembered a lot from when Henry was little.”

Regina feels herself relax, but she finds she’s no longer hungry. “Well, they’re both lovely,” she says, just to say something, as she passes the phone back to Emma.

“Thanks.” Emma gives her a cheeky grin. “But enough about me. What about you, Miss Regina Mills? Got any family? Friends? Significant others?”

Regina snorts at her attitude. “I’ve been living around the same people for most of my life. I’ve had a couple of relationships, but none that resulted in children. I’ve devoted most of my adult life to my job.”

“Which is?” Emma asks around a mouthful of burger. At least she has the decency to cover her mouth with her hand.

“Did you teach your children those manners?” Regina laughs.

Emma swallows, clearly working up a witty retort, when her phone rings. “Swan,” she answers. From across the table, Regina can just make out the sounds of the other person’s voice, but not what’s being said. “Okay,” Emma replies, setting the remains of her burger on her plate. “I can be there in twenty. Swan out.” She hangs up and looks over at Regina. “Sorry, duty calls.”

“Why are you apologizing? Go save the day.”

Emma snorts as she scoots out of the booth and pulls on her jacket. “That’s me: The Savior of New York.” Regina can’t help but grimace at these words; thankfully, Emma is too busy fighting with the zipper of her jacket to notice. By the time she looks up again, Regina has schooled her features into something more appropriate. “I’d like to say this fast exit won’t happen next time, but…”

Regina’s heart leaps. _Next time?_ “That’s what you get for moonlighting as a cop.”

“Ah yes, the old secret-identity routine: tour guide by day, superhero by night. Well, afternoon.” Emma smiles again. “Seriously, I’ll try to make it up to you next time. That is, assuming you have time in your busy schedule?”

“I’m sure I can squeeze you in somewhere.”

Emma’s grin widens. “Sounds good. See you around!” With that, she trots off through the packed café, weaving deftly among the tables, chairs, and people. By the time Regina extracts herself and her belongings from the booth, Emma has left the building.

* * *

 

Emma’s phone dings not long after she arrives back at the precinct. She checks it, because it could be something kid-related. Instead, she sees Regina’s name attached to the text message notification. She smiles, but puts the phone away; work takes priority right now.

Several hours later, she finally gets a break. After a quick call to the sitter to make sure Mara arrived home from school safely, Emma finally opens the message from Regina.

_When on Earth did you manage to pay the bill?_

Even after such a short acquaintance, Emma can hear the woman’s voice perfectly in her head, complete with incredulous tone. She grins as she taps back her response. _A lady never reveals all of her secrets._

A response appears quickly. _Ladies also don’t talk with their mouths full._

That earns a genuine laugh. _Touch_ _é. The owner’s a friend. I may have made arrangements in advance._

The reply takes longer this time. _And here I thought proper etiquette said the person asking was the person paying._

Emma’s grin widens. _Maybe so, but as you’ve pointed out, I’m hardly “proper”._

_Next time, Detective, I get the bill._

Butterflies erupt in Emma’s stomach. _You’re on, Miss Mills. And when might this next time be?_

_Are you free tomorrow evening?_


	3. Saturday: Another Unplanned Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In two short weeks, this story has become the 4th most-read piece I've published on here. YOU ALL ROCK! As ever, thanks to those who've left kudos, subscribed, bookmarked, and taken the time to leave comments.

_Three days later_

The first time she read the schedule for today, Regina had scoffed. Surely a bunch of teenagers would rather spend their time someplace other than a zoo? Apparently, the teens of Storybrooke are atypical; she hasn’t seen them so excited since the first day they stepped off the bus. The whole group is greeted by one of the zookeepers, a young man named CJ. Apparently, he’s worked with previous groups from Storybrooke; he greets Ashley and several of the older students by name. He also clearly knows what to expect from the teens, and proceeds to show them what he assures them are the “coolest” areas of the zoo (in other words, not where visitors normally get to go), places and animals and things that make the students gasp and laugh and occasionally hide behind friends and ask more questions than Regina would have thought possible. When the tour concludes a little over two hours later, Regina joins the students in their applause.

A quick reminder to the group of the expectations, a wave from Roland, and the teens disperse throughout the zoo until early afternoon. Nodding to Ashley, Regina also begins wandering through the crowds. Since it’s Saturday, these consist mostly of family groups, although she spots one or two other clumps of students with a chaperone, and one Girl Scout troop. Miraculously, she manages to get close to the front of the viewing area at the snow leopard exhibit. The big cats seem to be enjoying the chill in the air more than some of the visitors: the pair chases through the exhibit, taking it in turns to pounce one another. _Gorgeous creatures._

Someone tugs the hem of her jacket. “A-scuse me!”

“My apologies,” Regina automatically replies, stepping back. She looks down at the child, ready to compliment them on their manners, and stops short.

The little girl, for her part, meets Regina’s gaze with a confused look. “What’s ‘apologies’? Is that like ‘sorry’?” No tiara today; instead, a pink and purple headband pushes down on blonde locks.

“Exactly,” Regina replies. Before she can get out another word, she hears a familiar voice approaching.

“Mara! How many times have I—Regina!”

“Hello, Emma.”

“Mama? You know her?”

Emma nods. “Mara, this is mama’s friend Regina. Regina, Mara.”

Regina crouches down so she’s eye-level with the little girl and offers her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mara.”

Mara looks inordinately pleased at being treated like a grown-up. “You too, ‘Gina.” She takes Regina’s hand in her fuzzy-gloved one and shakes.

Regina chuckles as she stands back up. “Well, you certainly have better manners than your mother.”

“Hey!” Emma protests, although she’s smiling.

Mara grins, Emma in miniature. “That’s what Granny says!”

Regina knows she doesn’t mean Red’s grandmother, although the old wolf would likely also agree with the statement. “Granny?” she questions Emma.

“Her sitter.”

“Granny Ruth watches me after school and when Mama has to work.”

“That’s very nice of her.”

“Mm-hm. She reads with me and plays with me and bakes cookies for me.” A scuffle breaks out in the exhibit, and Mara darts forward to observe the animals, grown-ups forgotten.

Regina can’t help smiling as she turns back to Emma. “She’s certainly your daughter.”

“I think the fact that you can say that after knowing me less than a week should worry me.” Fortunately, Emma’s too busy watching Mara to notice the flash of panic that crosses Regina’s face. “Then again, she definitely acts like me, so I suppose I’m not surprised.”

Regina quickly changes the topic before she can say something else she shouldn’t. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” They’ve managed to have lunch or dinner together each of the past three days, a fact that both pleases and terrifies Regina. Yet when they spoke yesterday, Emma insisted she needed to spend time with her daughter.

“Likewise. I didn’t realize teenagers enjoyed going to the zoo.” Emma looks back at her.

“Neither did I,” Regina admits. “Although after the tour this morning, I certainly understand why they were looking forward to this.”

“Yeah, they have some good people here.”

“You sound like you know from experience.”

Emma huffs out a laugh. “We’re here at least twice a month. I’m pretty sure my kid is on first-name basis with half the staff.”

“Somehow, that wouldn’t surprise me.” Regina glances at the little girl, still enthralled with the snow leopards. “She certainly does well with people.”

“People, animals, the houseplants… I wouldn’t be surprised if she told me she’d made friends with the rocks on the playground.”

Regina can’t help the laugh that escapes, and Emma joins her. The sound finally pulls the girl’s attention away from the animals. “What’s so funny, Mama?”

“Just grown-up stuff, munchkin. Ready to go to the children’s zoo?”

“Can ‘Gina come with us?”

Emma looks at her. Mara copies her mother, putting Regina on the receiving end of twin gazes. “I don’t want to impose…” she begins, her mouth suddenly dry.

“What’s ‘impose’?”

Another smile tugs at Regina’s lips. “I don’t want to get in the way of you and your mother spending time together. Besides, I have students I’m supposed to be watching, and I highly doubt they’ll be over in the children’s zoo.” Not to mention the fact that the zoo isn’t all that large: the longer she stays with the pair, the higher the chances of Ashley seeing them. Regina still hasn’t told the other chaperones exactly who she’s been spending time with, and the idea of being found out like this sends unpleasant tingles through her.

“You’re a teacher?” The little one’s face scrunches in confusion.

“No, I’m simply helping the teachers on this field trip.”

“Oh.” Mara drops her gaze as she processes this. Regina takes the opportunity to shift her focus to Emma.

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Emma says, “but I understand if you can’t.”

A small part of Regina’s mind practically screams at her to _just go already! Spend more time with Emma! Who knows when you’ll see her again??_ She wants to listen to that part of herself. But decades of learned behavior take over, and instead she says, “As much as I’d like to, I can’t. But it was good to see you. And,” she turns her attention back to the girl, “it was lovely to meet you.”

“You too, ‘Gina.”

Emma catches Regina’s eye once more and mouths _call you later._ “Come on, munchkin. Let’s go see more animals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freely admit that I've never visited the Central Park Zoo. However, I worked at my local zoo as a young adult, and used that experience as the basis of the tour mentioned here.


	4. Monday: "See you around"

Emma Swan is _not_ panicking.

Okay, so work got crazy enough yesterday that she had to cancel her lunch plans (not a _date,_ it’s too early to call these things _dates_ ) with Regina. And yeah, she’s only known Regina for six days, but it feels like a lot longer. They just… _get_ each other in a way Emma hasn’t ever experienced before. And Regina leaves the city later today so if their rescheduled plans don’t work out, who knows when they’ll see each other again? And of course it’s another crazy day at the precinct, the kind where Emma doesn’t eat lunch until late, if at all.

Okay, maybe she _is_ panicking, just a little.

_Breathe, Swan._ She checks the clock again. Okay, if she powers through these last few reports, she might only be thirty minutes late… A hand smacks on top of the pile of folders in front of her, making her jump in her seat. “I got these,” Elisa states, sliding the stack over on to her desk.

It takes Emma’s brain a second to catch up, but then she feels a huge grin spread across her face. “I owe you,” she says as she stands and pulls on her red leather jacket.

“Yes, you do,” Elisa smirks. “Enjoy your date.”

Emma doesn’t even refute the label as she trots to the elevator.

* * *

 

Regina’s phone rings. “Excuse me,” she tells Emma, still chuckling over the last story about Henry and Mara. She glances at the caller ID before answering, a little surprised to see Roland’s name. “Roland? What’s going on?”

“Miz Mills?” The voice on the other end is certainly _not_ Roland. “My name is Officer Michaels. I’m here with Roland. There’s been an accident.”

Regina’s heart started racing as soon as the officer introduced himself. “What happened?”

“Nothing serious, just a little pedestrian versus bicycle. Emergency Medical Services says Roland will be fine, but we do need a guardian to come pick him up.”

“Where is he?” Regina digs through her purse for a pen. As Officer Michaels rattles off an address, she hurriedly writes it on a napkin. “Thank you, Officer. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hangs up and notices Emma standing there, jacket on, holding out Regina’s coat.

“One of the kids?”

“You don’t seem surprised.” Regina lets Emma help her with the jacket.

“They’re kids. Things happen. Come on, I’ll walk you there.”

Regina starts to protest, but stops herself. Emma long ago proved herself in a crisis. Roland may not be Henry, but he’s still a child for whom Regina cares deeply. Having someone calm around could certainly help. “Thank you.”

Emma smiles and drops some money on the table, ignoring Regina’s half-hearted protest at the gesture. “Forgive my bluntness, but this isn’t just some kid, is it?” she asks as they exit the restaurant.

Of _course_ she’d pick up on that. Damn Savior with her damn intuition. “No, he’s not,” Regina replies, mind racing. _How do I explain this?_ She and Robin have been gone through a number of rough patches over the years, including the current one. Even with all of that, she’s still probably the closest thing Roland has to a mother. “I guess you could call him my stepson.”

If nothing else, being a detective has given Emma a better poker face. Once upon a time, such a statement would have brought the Savior to an immediate halt, mouth hanging open. Now, however, only the barest of hitches in her step and a longer-than-usual silence signal Emma’s surprise. “I didn’t realize you were married.” She’s not looking at Regina. The tone of her voice has turned carefully neutral, although Regina can hear just the slightest hints of confusion and… something else.

“I’m not,” Regina quickly refutes. “It’s… complicated. Roland’s father and I have been together off and on for a number of years. Since Roland’s mother died some time ago, I’m the closest he has.”

Now Emma does look at her, a quick glance as they thread through the ever-present New York crowds. “You really have a soft spot for kids, don’t you?”

In another time and place, Regina would feel the need to scoff and deny. Here and now, though, she feels comfortable enough to say, “Yes, I do.”

That earns her a grin from Emma, one she is quick to return. The blonde turns her attention back to their surroundings. “Come on, it’s just around this corner.”

* * *

 

Emma is _not_ sulking. She’s merely hanging back out of respect for the job EMS and her fellow police have to do. And to give Regina time with her stepson. Whom she never mentioned in seven days. Not that she had to, that is. It’s not like she and Emma are _dating._ They barely know each other. So why does the knowledge that Regina has been in a relationship with someone else, maybe still is, make Emma’s gut churn?

Okay, maybe she is sulking. Just a little.

Regina stands by the open back of the ambulance, a hand on Roland’s arm while EMS takes a look at him. From her vantage point a little distance away, Emma can’t see much beyond where the techs had to cut open his pant leg to clean a long gash. Even though it doesn’t look deep, Emma can still tell from the kid’s face that it hurts. Regina says something, her words lost in the distance, but Emma sees how the kid focuses on her, visibly calming. Emma feels a smile creeping across her face: Not only does Regina have a soft spot for kids, it’s pretty clear kids have a soft spot for her, too.

The EMT begins wrapping a bandage around the leg. Regina must ask Roland something, because he nods his head. She squeezes his hand before stepping away and walking over to Emma. “How is he?” Emma asks.

“A little shaken up.” Regina glances back at the boy, who has his eyes closed. “Not badly hurt, thankfully.”

“I imagine his dad will pleased about that, too.” Emma winces. “Sorry, my mouth got ahead of my brain again.”

“You’re right,” Regina says, not elaborating on which statement she refers to. “I’m sorry our meal was cut short.”

“Me too,” Emma agrees. “I really didn’t picture it ending like this, either.”

The raised eyebrow makes Emma’s heart skip a beat. “How _did_ you picture it ending?”

Emma swallows, her throat suddenly dry. Honestly, she’d planned to kiss those deep red lips, preferably more than once. In light of recent revelations, she’s been rethinking that idea. But she can’t let Regina leave New York without at least a hint of what she’s come to mean to Emma, even after such a short time. Before she overthinks it, Emma leans forward and places a kiss on Regina’s cheek, not too long, but not short, either.

The skin below her lips is warm and soft. When Emma pulls back, she sees that at least some of that warmth comes from the light flush stealing across Regina’s cheeks. “Something like that,” she allows. Her voice has dropped a couple of steps.

Regina doesn’t move for long enough that Emma, mind racing on adrenaline, starts to think she may have overstepped. Just as Emma opens her mouth to apologize, Regina blinks and looks at her flushed and stunned and is that a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth? “I see,” she replies. Her voice has also dropped a couple of steps, and if Emma thought it sounded sexy before it’s nothing compared to now and if this is how she sounds after a _peck on the cheek_ then just think about how she’d sound in _bed…_

Somehow, Emma manages to pull her mind out of the gutter. She offers a smile ( _please let it just be a friendly smile_ ) and consciously works to pull her voice back up to its normal register. She backs away a couple of steps. “See you around, Regina.”

Now the other woman does smile. “See you around, Emma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of my amazing readers!


	5. Monday-Wednesday: Road-Trip and Texts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is officially my most popular story on this site. Thank you all!
> 
> This chapter contains the first of many text message exchanges between the ladies. Messages are in italics. A new paragraph indicates a change in speaker.

Regina can’t decide whether she loves or loathes road trips.

The hours between New York and Storybrooke, while scenic, don’t offer much in the way of distraction. The teens chat animatedly for the first three or four hours and all through the dinner stop, but shortly after the bus sets off again the noise gradually drops as they begin to doze, finally giving in to exhaustion. Regina checked in with Roland immediately before and after dinner, but aside from asking for some painkillers he appeared his usual self. She almost suggested healing him with magic, but stopped herself. As much as he might protest otherwise, Robin has always viewed her magic with a hint of suspicion and fear, and never let her use it on Roland. While the point could be made that Roland is old enough now to make his own choices, Regina simply doesn’t want to add more weight to her and Robin’s most recent falling out.

Staring out the window, she sighs. Soul mate or no, she and Robin have never had the easiest of relationships. Oh, she knows no relationship is all smiles and rainbows; she’s certainly watched enough of Snow and David’s spats over the years to know even the most devoted couples don’t always get along. But where the Charmings talk (or yell) things out and listen to one another and come out the other side with an even stronger bond, Regina and Robin… don’t. Oh sure, they go through the motions of talking it out, but their conversations always seem to just skim the surface without ever acknowledging the real problems, painting over the cracks without actually effecting repairs. And those times when the arguments result in separation? Well, when they eventually get back together they only apologize and never speak of what drove them apart in the first place. Their most recent argument occurred only a few days before the trip, and while it didn’t result in a physical separation, the atmosphere at Mifflin Street had been more than a little tense. New York may have given them space to breathe, but Regina can already predict how things will go upon her return.

Her phone dings, mercifully intruding into the grey of her thoughts. Emma’s name stares back at her from the screen. Regina hastily opens the text:

_Hope the kids are behaving on the LONG drive._

Regina glances around before replying. _If by behaving you mean sound asleep, then yes._

_Probably crashing from the excitement of the big city. I mean it IS an awesome place._

Regina smirks. _It’s alright I guess._

_Alright? You call the greatest city in the world ALRIGHT?_ She can almost hear Emma’s indignation.

_I admit it has its charms. Particularly some of its citizens._

_Do tell._

Regina’s smirk widens. _Fishing for compliments?_

Emma’s next message contains no words, merely a fishing pole emoji. Regina has to stifle a laugh as she taps out her response. _Shameless._

_But a good tour guide!_

_I guess…_

_Hey, you wanted to see the non-tourist trap restaurants of NYC, I showed you the BEST non-tourist trap restaurants of NYC._

_If you say so._ She pauses for a moment after sending that, thinking if and how she wants to continue. _Honestly Emma, I had a wonderful time. Thank you for everything._ She hopes Emma understands exactly what she means.

_You’re welcome, Regina. I also enjoyed everything._

Regina could continue the conversation, but knows that doing so would only add to the tangle of emotions coursing through her. Instead, she merely gazes at that last comment until the screen dims and then turns itself off, leaving her once more alone with her thoughts.

* * *

 

Tuesday, 11:00 AM

_Feels weird knowing we don’t have lunch plans today._

_How will you ever survive?_

_I won’t. I’ll waste away into nothingness. ;)_

_I highly doubt that._

_Honestly, I’ll probably have a working lunch. Caught a case this morning, so lots of detecting to do._

_I wish you luck._

Wednesday, 1:30 PM

_How goes the case?_

Wednesday, 8:00 PM

_Shit, sorry, just saw this. It’s going. Waiting on a warrant for arrest, so stalled until tomorrow._

_No need to apologize. I figured you were busy. Do all cases move this fast?_

_Some do, some don’t. Honestly, am kind of relieved this one will likely be done soon._

_I never asked: What type of detective are you?_

_Special Victims Division. We investigate sex crimes, alleged child abuse, and hate crimes._

_That’s quite a list._

_Yeah. Some days I wonder why I do this._

_Why DO you do it?_

_I hate seeing people suffer._


	6. Saturday: Dinner with the Charmings

Regina barely finishes knocking on the door before it swings open. “Hi Regina!” the youngest Charming greets her with a gap-tooth smile. His eyes zero in on the container she holds, and he crows, “Turnovers!”

“Neal!” Snow’s voice reprimands from the kitchen area.

Regina chuckles as she passes the container to the boy. “Hello Neal. Why don’t you take this to your mother?” The boy scampers off as Regina enters the loft and shuts the door.

“I swear, I’m teaching him manners,” Snow states as she directs the eight-year-old to put down the dessert and finish setting the table.

“So I see,” Regina comments as she hangs up her coat. She proceeds to join Neal in his task, gently correcting his placement of the silverware.

Not long thereafter, the three of them sit down. “Will the mayor be joining us?” Regina asks, noting the empty fourth chair.

“Hopefully,” Snow replies, helping Neal serve himself. “He’s still mediating between the Merry Men and the Lost Boys.” She glances over at Regina. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I know he’s looking forward to when you take office again.”

“My lips are sealed,” Regina smirks. “As long as you don’t tell him that I think he’s actually done a decent job of running the town.”

Snow chuckles. “Deal.” Neal’s plate taken care of, she moves to filling her own. “So how was New York? I’m sorry we couldn’t get together right after you got back.”

“Talk to Ashley about the timing. I’m sure she has some reason for having us travel when we did. Probably something to do with the budget.”

“You’re probably right,” Snow chuckles again. “So? What did you think of the city?”

Regina spent the entire day debating exactly how much to tell the Charmings about her time in the city. As much as David and, especially, Snow would love to hear about their daughter, Regina still doesn’t know the right choice to make. At various points over the years, they’ve talked about Emma, wondering how she is, what her life looks like. The first such discussion occurred in the midst of Zelena’s elaborate plot to travel back in time; at the time, no one could leave town to retrieve Emma. Later discussions often devolved into bickering over whether or not they had the right to uproot Emma and Henry from their new lives. By the time people could come and go from the town with no ill effects, the unspoken agreement seemed to have been reached that they’d leave their family members to live their own stories.

“Regina?” Snow’s voice breaks into her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Regina gives herself a slight shake, pulling her thoughts back to the present.

“Did something happen in New York?”

“Roland was in an accident our last day in the city. He’s fine,” she staves off Snow’s interruption. “No major injuries, and mostly healed at this point.” Regina proceeds to tell the story, carefully editing out any mention of Emma. Once she knows nothing serious occurred, Snow visibly relaxes. She and Neal begin to pepper Regina with other questions about the trip: What was the hotel like? Are the buildings really so tall? Did the students behave themselves? Did Regina see the alligators in the sewer? What was her favorite place they visited? Were there dragons at the zoo?

David still hasn’t arrived by dessert time, and the conversation moves on to other topics. Not long after excusing Neal from the table, Snow inquires after Robin. “I know you had another disagreement before the trip,” she states, “but have things settled down?”

“We’re not actively fighting, if that’s what you mean.” Sometimes, Regina takes a mental step back and can hardly believe she’s gotten to a point in her relationship with Snow where they talk about this sort of thing.

“Not fighting is good,” Snow allows, “but I can tell you’re still stressed.”

_Well, the fact that I had a week long… something with your daughter has made me seriously question why I’m still with that man._ “I think this last argument may have been the proverbial straw.” Regina’s phone dings. She glances at the screen, quickly schools her features to hide a smile because it’s a text from Emma. She sets the phone down and turns back to Snow, a little surprised the woman has been silent for so long.

“Maybe… maybe it’s time to end things with him.”

Well _that’s_ a surprise. “Who are you, and what have you done with Snow White?”

The other woman heaves an exasperated sigh, but any further response cuts off when the loft door opens, admitting David. “Sorry I’m late!”

Neal comes tearing downstairs to say hi to his father. Snow gets up to greet her husband with a kiss. Regina greets David when he joins her at the table. The women catch the mayor up on the highlights of their conversation while he finally eats, Neal having disappeared once more. Then it’s David’s turn to talk, outlining the compromise that has _finally_ been reached between the Lost Boys and the Merry Men. Eventually, Regina looks up at the clock and declares it’s past time she went home. She calls goodnight to Neal, bids David farewell, and heads to the door. A moment later, Snow follows her.

“Look, Regina,” Snow’s voice is pitched low so as not to carry, “I’m serious about what I said earlier. I know I’ve been pushing you for years to stay with Robin, but…” She trails off, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “Have you met someone?”

“What on Earth gives you that idea?”

“I saw the look on your face when you got that text earlier. I haven’t seen you look like that in… well, in a long time.” Regina doesn’t respond. “Just, just think about what I’ve said. And please remember I’m here any time you want to talk.” She passes over the container Regina brought, now empty.

“I know.” Regina accepts the container, desperate now to leave before she says something she regrets. “Goodnight, Snow.”

“Goodnight Regina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Hannah, people! This story has TWICE the amount of views as the next-most-popular thing I've written. THANK YOU!


	7. Tuesday: Skype and FaceTime

Emma takes a moment before she enters the apartment, leaning her head against the door. She just needs a chance to catch one more breath, try to really clear this latest case out of her head. The work she does could never be described as easy. Like many in her line of work, she’s developed a layer of emotional armor to cope with what she experiences on a daily basis. Some days, she just needs a little longer to shed that armor before she goes home to her kids. Today is one of those days. So she pauses in the hall, closes her eyes, and concentrates on her breathing.

Her phone pings twice in rapid succession. Her eyes blink open as she digs the device out of her pocket. Two text notifications greet her: One from Henry, one from Regina. Henry’s message merely confirms the time for their Skype date tonight; she sends a quick thumbs up in reply. Regina’s message is a reply to Emma's from earlier in the day, asking how Roland was doing.

Emma promises herself she’ll reply to Regina later. Right now, she needs to pick up her daughter and go home. She tucks the phone back into her pocket and pulls out her keys.

“Knock knock!” she calls out as she lets herself in.

“Mama!” Mara comes flying down the short hallway and wraps herself around Emma’s waist.

“Hi munchkin,” Emma returns the hug. “Hi Ruth,” she greets their neighbor as the older woman appears.

“Hi dear,” Ruth replies. The woman called Granny by Emma’s children stands a few inches shorter than Emma’s own five feet six, yet can fill the room with her presence. Comfortably in her seventies, she has one of the sharpest, most perceptive minds Emma has ever encountered. She gives Emma a once over before addressing the little girl still clinging to her waist. “Mara, go clean up your things.”

The child squeezes her mother one more time before doing as she’s told. Emma chuckles as she walks towards Ruth. “Some day, I’ll figure out this mysterious power you have over my children.” She wraps the older woman in a gentle hug.

“So you keep saying. I’m beginning to think your reputation as a detective is all hype.” The laughter in Ruth’s voice and the twinkle in her eye when they break apart eliminate any sting in the words. Her face turns serious. “Bad day at the office?” Emma nods. “Well, you know where to find me if you need to talk.”

Emma smiles. “Thanks. But I’m not focusing on work tonight. We have a Skype date with Henry!” She directs this last to both Ruth and her daughter, who has returned carrying her coat and backpack.

“Tell him I said hi,” Ruth instructs over Mara’s squeals of delight.

“Of course,” Emma assures her. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye Granny!” Mara hugs the old woman before darting out the door.

Two hours later, following dinner and bath time, Mara settles on to her mom’s lap as Emma logs on to Skype. Soon enough, a very familiar face appears on the screen. “Hi Sis! Hi Ma!”

“Hi Henry!”

“Hey kid.” As always, Emma’s heart swells at the sight of her boy. “How’s school?”

“Busy,” Henry states. His eyes turn to Mara. “Hey Sis, guess what I saw today?”

The siblings begin chatting, and Emma relaxes in her chair, content to watch and listen. Henry’s short answer doesn’t worry her; he looks tired but happy, and her superpower hasn’t picked up anything of concern. Even if it does, she’ll let the kids keep talking now and text Henry later. She loves how, despite the age gap, her children have such a strong relationship, and doesn’t want to interrupt them. Eventually, though, the timer she set earlier does just that. “Okay Mara, time to brush your teeth.”

The little girl turns around, ready to protest. Something on Emma’s face stops her. “Yes Mama.” She turns back to the screen. “Bye Henry.” She blows a kiss at the webcam.

The boy, no, _young man_ pretends to catch it on his cheek before returning one of his own. “See ya, Sis.”

“I’ll come tuck you in in a few minutes,” Emma kisses her daughter’s head before the girl scampers off.

“You okay, Ma?” Henry’s voice pulls her attention back to the screen.

“Just a rough day at work.” Emma doesn’t elaborate.

Henry lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re never going to stop trying to protect me, are you? You do realize I can look things up online?”

“No and yes,” Emma sighs in return. “Sorry kid, years of habit. And I really hope your time on the Internet isn’t wasted looking at the NYPD blotter.”

Henry cocks his head and gives a small, non-committal smile. “Is work the only thing?”

Truthfully, Emma’s been out of sorts since Regina left over a week ago. Which confuses, irritates, and intrigues her in equal measure. “Just… feeling a little lonely, I guess.”

Henry’s not stupid. “What happened? Did you meet someone?”

Emma makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. “Are you sure writing is really what you want to do with your life? ‘Cause you’d probably do just fine as a detective.”

He grins, but refuses to rise to the bait. “Quit deflecting.”

“Or a decent therapist.”

The grin melts into a pointed look. “Seriously Ma?”

“Okay, fine, yes, I met someone.”

“And?”

Her gaze wanders as she tries to put her thoughts in words. “And she was only in town for a week, but we saw one another practically every day and we’re still texting and I don’t know what’s going on.” She looks back at the screen. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That sappy ‘oh that’s so cute she’s got a crush’ look you’re wearing. I’m the parent here, I’m supposed to be the one wearing that look.”

Now he’s laughing. “Next time I tell you about a crush, you’re welcome to look at me the same way.” He takes a deep breath and gets the laughter under control. “Think it’ll go anywhere?”

Emma sighs and shakes her head. “No idea.”

“Well, you know where to find me if you want to talk about it.”

“Yes, because every mother wants dating advice from her twenty-year-old.”

He gives her another cheeky grin. “Precisely.” Something off-screen chimes, catching his attention. “I gotta go, Ma. Have to meet with my group for a project in five minutes.”

“Go. Be an amazing student. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He waves before disconnecting the call.

For several long moments, Emma stays right where she is, staring at the computer screen, lost in thought. Then Mara’s voice calls for her bedtime story and Emma quickly swings back into mommy mode.

Several hours later, Emma lies in bed, staring at the book in front of her. She’s reread the same page several times now, but nothing has sunk in, and she finally gives it up as a bad job. She has to do something before she thinks herself into knots. Reaching for her phone, she taps a quick message to Regina.

_You awake?_

* * *

 

The ding of her phone startles Regina out of her thoughts. Glancing at the screen, she feels a smile tug at her lips, the first since she got Emma’s text that morning. Quickly, she responds to Emma’s latest message. _Trouble sleeping, Detective?_

_Yeah. Want to FaceTime?_

Regina’s heart speeds up. They’ve texted almost constantly since she left New York a week ago, but they haven’t spoken in real time since the conversation after Roland’s accident. The idea of not only hearing Emma but seeing her as well sounds almost too good to be true.

Her phone comes to life in her hand, ringing and proclaiming _Emma Swan would like to FaceTime._ She chuckles as she accepts the call. “What if I was going to say ‘no’?”

On screen, Emma shrugs. “Then you wouldn’t have picked up.” A grin appears on her face. “Hi.”

“Hello, Detective.” Regina smiles in return. “How have you been?”

“Meh,” Emma grunts. She moves closer to the screen, her eyes darting around. “Where _are_ you?”

“My office at the stables,” Regina replies. She started teaching horseback riding the first time Snow ousted her from office, and over the years has built up a small school of dedicated riders. She even has an assistant, a young man named Milo who, in addition to providing excellent care for the horses, does well enough as a teacher that he can take over lessons when she’s not available. Actually, it’s thanks to him she can talk to Emma right now: One day he informed her that he’d installed a wireless internet network on the premises and, over her protests, calmly pointed out that now she could actually accomplish something in her office rather than constantly griping about the computer’s speed.

“What’s got you at work so late?”

_I’m not quite fighting but haven’t really made up with the man who lives in my house and with whom I’ve had some sort of relationship for the last seven years._ “I’m just catching up on some paperwork.”

“Know why I’m such a good detective?”

“Enlighten me.”

“I have this really awesome superpower that tells me when someone is lying. Care to try that answer again?” Emma looks at her expectantly; a look Regina can easily imagine being directed at Henry and Mara over the years.

Sighing, Regina relents. “Robin and I had another disagreement.” More like they never resolved the one from before New York, but Emma doesn’t need to know that.

“This is Roland’s dad?” Emma looks like she wants to say more, but doesn’t.

Regina admires her restraint. “Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

_Yes._ “I’m… not used to doing so.”

“It can help.” Emma’s tone suggests she knows this from experience.

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“Who’s everyone?”

_Your mother, for one._ “One of my friends said as much when we had dinner the other night.” Uncomfortable with how much she has to censor herself, Regina turns the conversation in a different direction. “What about you? What has you up at this hour?”

Emma gives her a knowing look, but follows her lead. “Work. Missing Henry.” Seeing Regina’s questioning look, she elaborates. “Mara and I had a Skype date with him tonight. I love that I get to see and talk to him, but I always miss him a little bit more after we hang up.”

Regina completely understands. “He’s in college, right?”

Emma nods. “Yup. Going to a small school in Pennsylvania.”

Regina’s heart aches at the added physical distance. “Why did he decide to go so far away?”

“It was the right fit for him.” She chuckles. “And since one of his other choices was Stanford, I consider it a good sign he’s still in the same time zone.”

Regina has to smile at that, too. “A fair point. What is he studying?”

“Writing. Can’t say I’m surprised. You should hear some of the stories he’s come up with over the years.”

_I remember._ “Care to share?”

Emma looks thoughtful for a moment. “Well, at one point Mara was convinced a dragon lived in Central… Whoa, hey munchkin, what’s wrong?” The picture blurs as Emma gets jostled.

“Emma? Is everything alright?”

“We’ve got company.” The view on Emma’s end readjusts, and Regina can see the small figure now latched on to Emma’s side, holding on tightly. “I think someone had a nightmare.” A vivid memory hits Regina of Henry doing the exact same thing at that age. Emma’s voice breaks in, pulling her back to the present. “Hey munchkin, it’s okay. It was just a dream. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. You’re okay.” Regina almost thinks Emma’s forgotten their conversation until the blonde tosses a quick glance at the screen.

Regina doesn’t realize she’s going to speak until she does, her voice soft and soothing. “Mara, your mother is right. It’s just a dream. You’re awake now. Nothing can hurt you.”

Mara finally pulls her face out of Emma’s shoulder. “’Gina?”

“That’s right, Mara.” Regina’s insides twist in happiness and disbelief that the girl remembers her.

Mara looks from Emma to the phone and back again, clearly trying to process. Emma smiles and explains. “Regina and I were visiting.”

“But it’s past bedtime,” Mara states, voice laced with confusion.

Regina fights down a laugh, and can see Emma doing the same. “For little girls, yes,” Emma affirms. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Say goodnight to Regina.”

“Night, ‘Gina.”

“Goodnight, Mara.”

“Talk to you soon?” Emma’s eyes lock on to hers through the screen.

“Absolutely.” She’s rewarded with a grin from Emma before the call disconnects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate! As always, thanks to all of you lovely readers.


	8. Wednesday-Friday: Texts and Revelations

Wednesday, 8:30 AM

_Did Mara get back to sleep?_

_Yeah. Thanks for the assist._

_You’re welcome, but I’m not sure I did anything._

_Nightmares normally leave her so hyped up she can’t get back to sleep for ages. You got her focused on something else, which helped her get back to sleep a lot faster. So again, thank you._

_Glad I could help. What about you?_

_What about me what?_

_Were you finally able to get some sleep?_

_Not as much as I would’ve liked, but yeah._

Wednesday, 4:30 PM

_Mara made this for you._ [Attached picture shows a child’s crayon-on-construction paper drawing of a dark-haired person with large brown eyes.]

_Is that supposed to be me?_

_Yup! I think it looks great. ;)_

_Please tell her I love it._

_Will do!_

Thursday, 11:00 AM

_How’re things at the stables?_

_That’s a random question._

_Queen of Random Questions, that’s me._

_Fair point. Things are going well. My students are progressing. The horses are in good health. My assistant continues to prove his worth._

_Woo, high praise!_

_Mock all you want, but I know there’s more to this line of questioning than you’re telling me._

_Brilliant, Holmes._

 

Regina waits, but Emma doesn’t expand on her last message. Worried, Regina takes a break from cleaning tack and dials Emma’s number. After several rings, it clicks over to voicemail. “Emma, it’s Regina. I just wanted to check that you’re alright. Your last several texts sounded… different. Anyway, like I said, hope all’s well.” She hangs up, internally berating herself for her rambling.

 

Friday, 1:30 AM

_Sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner. Latest case got exciting. I’m fine. Will call you later today._

Of course Regina’s in the middle of lunch with Snow when Emma calls. “Excuse me,” she tells the other woman, sliding out of their booth at Granny’s and heading for the back hallway, looking for some semblance of privacy. “Exciting?” she answers the call.

“The perp decided to add time to his jail sentence by shooting at the police. Like I said,” Emma hurries to add, “I’m fine. Maza caught one in the leg. Just a graze, but I still went with her to the ER.”

Invisible bands around Regina’s chest loosen and she leans against the wall as her legs shake with relief. She takes what feels like her first deep breath since those worrying messages yesterday. “I’m sorry your partner got hurt.”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

Regina can sympathize. “You sound exhausted.”

Emma giggles. “That’s because I am. We didn’t leave the ER until after midnight. I still had to get up to get Mara to school, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep so I came in to the precinct to take care of paperwork. Although looking at my latest efforts all I’m producing is gibberish, so I should probably go back home.”

“And get some sleep,” Regina states.

“Yeah. That.” Emma yawns. “Definitely. But hey, before I go, I owe you an apology. Sorry those messages scared you yesterday.” Regina tries to interject, but the detective keeps rambling. “I have this habit of texting random questions when a case stalls. I was going to tell you that, but then we got a call and had to move and…”

“I understand. Are you okay to get back to your apartment?” Emma’s tone worries her; Regina can just picture her bleary eyes and swaying posture.

“What, you’re going to drive down from Maine to take me home?” Emma giggles again. “I took a cab today, I’ll catch another one home.”

“Please text me that you made it back safely.” It slips out before Regina can stop it.

“Hey,” Emma’s tone instantly changes to concern and reassurance, “I meant what I said: I’m fine. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Regina wants to brush off the accusation, but finds that she can’t. “Well, intended or not, you did. But, as you say, you are fine. Or will be, once you get some more sleep.”

“No argument here.” Another yawn. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care, Regina.”

“You too, Emma.” The call disconnects. Regina sighs and closes her eyes as she pulls the phone away from her face. She just needs a moment to collect herself before she returns to the table.

“Emma?”

Regina’s eyes fly open as her head snaps to the right. There stands Snow, her face a mask of disbelief and confusion. “How long have you been standing there?” Regina demands.

Snow’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment. “I came to tell you that I have to head back to school, but was that… Did you actually…” Snow stops for a moment, takes a deep breath, and continues. “Were you talking to my daughter just now?”

The emotional rollercoaster Regina’s been on the last twenty-four hours has left her no reserves to do anything other than tell the truth. “Yes,” she admits. “Look,” she continues, “I owe you an explanation, but I don’t think this is the best time or place. Why don’t you stop by the stables when you’re done at work?”

She can tell that part of Snow wants to demand the explanation here and now, but her sense of duty wins out. “I’ll be there by three-thirty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Thank you for your continued support of this story.


	9. Friday: Explanations and More Revelations

Snow White prides herself on her ability to focus while at work. It doesn’t matter how crazy life in Storybrooke gets, once she sets foot inside the classroom she turns one-hundred percent of her attention to her lessons and students. That is, until today.

Somehow, even with her mind awhirl over all that happened at lunch, she manages to get through her afternoon, although she knows her delivery is off. Thankfully, her students don’t notice, or if they do, they don’t comment. The usual mad scramble takes place when the final bell rings; Snow hurriedly tosses a pile of grading into her bag before joining the throng headed for the exit.

Fortunately, today’s one of the days Neal goes to the library after school. She already texted David to let him know about her detour, although she didn’t tell him why. She’ll fill him in once she has more details herself.

The drive to the stables doesn’t take long, but her thoughts race along at the speed of light, making it seem interminable. _She must have found Emma in New York. Was it an accident? On purpose? Have they been in touch this whole time? How is Emma? How is Henry? Why did Regina hide this from us? Is Emma the “someone” I sensed last week? I know I said it might be time for Regina to end things with Robin, but what if that means she gets involved with my daughter?_ Snow shakes her head. _One thing at a time, Snow White. Listen to Regina first. It may simply be that she’s trying to be Emma’s friend again. They were getting so close before we sent Emma and Henry away…_ An image pops up in Snow’s mind: The scene at the town line as they all said good-bye. The way Emma and Regina stood so close together, looking at one another. Was it possible she’d missed something back then? She shakes her head again. _I’ll know soon enough._

Sure enough, within minutes she pulls up next to the barn. As anxious as she was to get here, Snow hesitates now to get out of the car. What if she doesn’t like where this conversation goes? What if she does or says something that sends Regina back down the path of evil? What if… _Snap out of it, princess. Take a deep breath and go talk to your friend._

* * *

Regina has been staring at her computer screen for the past four hours. Allegedly, she was getting caught up on paperwork. Really, she’s let the blinking cursor hypnotize her while her mind races through all the possible directions the impending confront— _conversation_ with Snow White could take.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much data to work with. More often than not, Snow has been the one to keep secrets that hurt Regina, not the other way around. The only situation she can come up with where she withheld potentially harmful information is the curse that originally created Storybrooke all those years ago, the one that suppressed personalities and memories. Sure, Snow wasn’t too thrilled with Regina once the curse was lifted, but even then she showed a disgustingly optimistic willingness to forgive her stepmother. _But she was following Emma’s lead then._ Emma, who, despite how Regina had treated her, talked the townsfolk down from the angry mob mentality. Emma, who helped save Regina from the wraith and got sent to the Enchanted Forest for her trouble. Emma, who pushed to become Regina’s friend, who had, by the time of Pan’s curse, started to feel like slightly more than a friend…

A noise breaks in to Regina’s thoughts. She looks up to find Snow White standing at her office door. “Come in,” she greets the other woman. Snow does so, settling in a chair as Regina sends a whisper of magic to shut the door. The women sit in silence for several moments while Regina closes her eyes and attempts to put her treacherous thoughts in order. “I owe you an apology,” she starts, eyes still closed. “I should have told you that I ran in to Emma in New York. Please," she holds up a hand to forestall Snow’s response, “let me finish. I didn’t tell you, and for that I’m sorry.” She stops, unsure of how to go on.

Snow waits a few moments before speaking. “Did you go looking for her?” Her tone has only the slightest trace of anger. Regina opens her eyes to check this observation; sure enough, Snow’s face shows more curiosity than anything else.

“No,” Regina chuckles. “When I say I ran in to her, I mean that almost literally…” The dam breaks, the words tumble out: How she and Emma met again, how Emma offered to show her around, how Regina took advantage of that offer, what she learned of Emma’s new life, including Mara, during their meetings. To her credit, Snow remains silent, although she lets out an audible gasp at the news that she’s got a second grandchild. As Regina begins to talk about her final meal with the detective, however, she finds her speech faltering. Her eyes drift down to her desk. How to admit to Snow about the kiss?

Snow notices her hesitation. “You know, when Roland told me about the accident,” she says when Regina pauses, “he mentioned that you arrived with someone, but he didn’t know who or why.”

“I got the call from the police in the middle of our meal. Emma made sure I got to the scene.”

“And?” Snow prompts when Regina pauses again.

“And once I knew Roland was going to be fine we talked a little bit more and said our good-byes.” Regina can feel heat rising to her cheeks at the memory of what came next, and summons a small bit of magic to control her body’s reactions.

If Snow notices, she doesn’t say anything. “Only it wasn’t really good-bye, was it?”

“No. We’ve been texting almost daily since then, and we talked over FaceTime on Tuesday.” Her cheeks still feel warm. “Some of her messages yesterday worried me, so I called. She didn’t get back to me until today with an explanation.”

“What happened?” Snow’s concern finally pulls Regina’s eyes from the desk back to the other woman’s face. “I saw you at Granny’s. You looked ready to fall over from relief.”

“Apparently, her latest case ended in a shootout. Emma’s fine, but she had to take her partner to the emergency room. What with one thing and another, she wasn’t able to call me until she did.”

Snow studies her for several moments, long enough that Regina almost squirms under the attention. “You were really worried about her, weren’t you?” the former princess finally asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Regina snaps. “She just came back in to my life, and for all I knew I’d lost her again.”

“Why does that matter to you so much?”

“She’s the woman raising my son!”

“Is that all she is to you?”

“No!”

They sit in silence for some time, Regina’s last statement hanging in the air. The former queen’s thoughts race at a million miles an hour, trying to come up with a way to explain without actually explaining.

Finally, Snow speaks. “Do you have feelings for Emma?”

It’s the last thing Regina expected to hear. If her cheeks felt warm before, they’re positively on fire now, and her emotions are too haywire to risk magic. “I… don’t know.” Snow tilts her head to the side, a skeptical expression on her face. “Possibly.”

The other woman scoffs. “Regina.”

“I’m serious! I don’t know what… feelings… feel like anymore. Daniel was a long time ago, no one really loved the Evil Queen, and I don’t know how to describe whatever is going on with Robin.”

From the look on Snow’s face, she can’t make up her mind about what she wants to say next. Knowing her, Regina figures it’s a toss up between asking for more information about Emma and her children, and “helping” Regina figure out what’s going on with the former outlaw. Sure enough: “I know I surprised you on Saturday, but I meant what I said. Maybe it’s time to consider ending things with Robin.” She holds up a hand. “Before you make another sarcastic comment, just hear me out. Or don’t, but promise me you’ll make an appointment with Archie.”

Regina bites the inside of her cheek and motions for Snow to continue. The other woman’s hand drops back to her lap. “When you and Robin first got together, I thought it could be good, for both of you. I admit I was a little worried that you might be trying to replace Henry with Roland,” Regina’s stomach clenches at the observation, “but I soon realized my mistake. And for a while, you seemed to be so happy. And then…” She trails off, clearly searching for words.

“We fell apart,” Regina finishes. “And I don’t really know how it happened.”

“I think that’s a discussion for another time. My point is, maybe he’s not really your happy ending.”

“What about the fairy dust?” It’s the first time Regina’s spoken the question aloud.

“As much as I trust the fairies, they have been known to make mistakes.”

Regina takes some time to chew that one over. If the people of the Enchanted Forest could be said to have a religion, then True Love and Happy Endings would be it, with the fairies as the head disciples. Most residents of Storybrooke would consider the idea of a fairy making a mistake anathema. Yet that doesn’t negate what Snow said.

Speaking of whom… “You’re taking this a lot more calmly than I thought you would,” Regina admits.

“Oh, I’m plenty angry and hurt that you kept all of this from me,” the other woman assures her. “Finding out the way I did… let’s just say my mind wasn’t really in the classroom this afternoon.”

“I can sympathize.”

Snow tilts her head in acknowledgment. “But you have explained things now, including your somewhat hazy motivations for acting the way you did. I can’t say I won’t get in your face about this later, though.”

Regina chuckles. “I think that’s more than fair.”

Silence descends once more. Eventually, Snow speaks. “How are you going to explain things to Robin?”

“I have no idea. I have to admit, I’ve spent the past couple of weeks hoping things would fall apart on their own.”

“Regina!”

“I know, I know. I’ll figure something out.”

Snow looks at her skeptically, but apparently decides she’s beaten that particular drum enough for one day. “Well, you know where to find me if you want to talk. In the meantime, I have,” she looks at her watch, “thirty minutes until I need to pick Neal up from the library. So: Tell me everything you can about my new granddaughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this story. I wish you and those you care about all the best for the new year.


	10. Friday-Sunday: Texts

Friday, 1:30 PM

_Made it home safe and sound. Off to bed._

Friday, 8:30 PM

_Hey, just wanted to say again that I’m sorry for scaring you the last couple of days._

_Apology accepted. Are you all caught up on your sleep?_

_Getting there. Just got Mara to bed._

_I take it she didn’t want to go to sleep?_

_Nope. She’s been extra-clingy today. Check it out:_ [Attached picture shows Mara, fast asleep, holding Emma’s arm as one would a stuffed animal.]

_Hardly surprising, given recent events. I wish you luck in extracting yourself._

_We’re already in my bed. Figured it couldn’t hurt for one night. And just so you know, texting with your non-dominant hand only sucks, especially when sleep deprived._

_The sacrifices of a parent. I’m impressed you can form complete sentences at this point._

_Me too. Probably not for much longer._

_So I see. Go to bed._

_Giving me orders? Kinky._

_You’re exhausted. Get some sleep._

_Yes ma’am._

Saturday, 10:30 AM

_I feel like I owe you another apology for anything I may have said or done while under the influence of sleep-deprivation._

Saturday, 6:00 PM

_My apologies; my day was busier than I thought it would be. As for your actions while sleep-deprived, no apologies are necessary._

_You sure? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable._

_You didn’t._

Saturday, 9:30 PM

_So, what happened to make your day busy?_

_I taught several lessons at the stables, and then had to attend a meeting at Town Hall._

_Town Hall?_

_The mayor asked me to stop by so we could discuss the upcoming handover._

_Handover? Wait are you the next mayor?_

_Yes. I re-take office after New Year’s._

_Re-take?? You’ve been mayor before??_

_Several times._ [Three dots indicating typing appear, disappear, and reappear several times. No new text appears.] _Emma?_

_I’m here. Sorry, just trying to wrap my head around the news. Congratulations, by the way._

_Thank you, but why is this so difficult to process?_

_It’s not! I bet you’re a kick-ass mayor._

_I try. And it seems I’m not the only one whose day got busy._

_How do you figure?_

_Aren’t you supposed to be a detective? The 3 1/2 hours between messages were a big clue._

_In my defense, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately._

_I’m beginning to understand why people find these useful._ [Message ends with an eyeroll emoji.]

_OMG, I didn’t think you knew how to use an emoji!_

_Very funny, Detective. So: Your busy day?_

_Mara and I brought dinner to Elisa’s place._

_How is she?_

_She’s okay. Says her leg hurts like hell._

_I would imagine it does. How badly is she injured?_

_The bullet grazed her left thigh. Good news/bad news, it only hit muscle and skin. She’s supposed to “take it easy”._

_Something tells me that will be tricky._

_She’s being a good girl for now._

_And how long will that last?_

_I give it a week._

_Based on what I know of her, that seems… optimistic._

_Yeah well you haven’t met Keith._

_Keith?_

_Her husband. Between him and me, I think we can get her to follow the doc’s orders for seven days._

_And after that?_

_All bets are off. Although if/when she shows up in the precinct before the doc clears her, Cap’ll throw a fit. May or may not be effective, but it will be entertaining._

[Indicator dots appear and disappear twice, then:] _I don’t know what to say to that. Are you still at Elisa’s?_

[A thumbs up emoji appears.]

_As lovely as this conversation is, why aren’t you visiting with your friend?_

_Have you ever had any of the really heavy-duty painkillers? She’s out like a light._

_And your daughter?_

_Sound asleep in the guest room. I brought a book to read, but decided talking with you was more appealing. Sorry we can’t actually talk. Don’t want to disturb Elisa or risk leaving her alone in the room._

_I understand. And I’m happy to communicate with you, no matter the means._

_Charmer. You doing anything Tuesday night? I could use another FaceTime session._

_I agree: That sounds lovely._

_It’s a date!_

__

Sunday, 3:30 PM

_What do you think about the idea of a soul mate?_

_Are you trying to steal my title as Queen of Random Questions?_

_You can keep your crown. I’m just curious about your thoughts on the matter._

_Like, do I think soul mates exist?_

_And are they the same thing as a true love?_

_Okay, at some point, you have to tell me where this is coming from._

_I will._

_I’ll hold you to that. So, soul mates. I guess I’d have to say yes, I think they’re real. But I don’t know that they’re necessarily the same thing as a true love. (And THAT’S a whole different topic.)_

_Can you elaborate?_

_The way I see it, a soul mate is someone who just GETS you, without any explanation._

_How is that any different than true love?_

_First of all, I don’t know that there is such a thing as TRUE love. Second, any relationship I’ve ever been in that got to the stage where we said “I love you” was WORK. We worked so that we could stay together, because we thought we were better that way. Whereas a soul mate is someone who may or may not actually make you better._

_I’m afraid I don’t understand._

_I think Elisa and I are soul mates. We have the same snarky, twisted sense of humor and like the same things. We look at the world in a similar way. I don’t have to work to maintain that closeness. It just happens. Okay so far?_

_Yes._

_Now, when I met any of the people I’ve been in a “love” relationship with, I didn’t know what to do. Sure, we both said we felt something, but we had to work on that connection so that it could grow beyond just a feeling. There may have been times when I wanted to just give up, but I kept coming back because I knew that we pushed each other to be new, hopefully better people._

_I think I see what you’re saying. On a somewhat related topic, just how many relationships have you been in?_

_Curious about my past?_

_Just wondering about the foundation for the logic you’re using._

_You wound me, Madam Mayor-elect._

_And you’re avoiding the question._

_Yup. But since you insist, I’d say I’ve had four or five relationships that made it to the “love” stage. Does that sound like a good foundation?_

_It does. And I didn’t mean to offend._

_You didn’t! Sorry, I forget sometimes that tone of voice doesn’t always translate to text._

_I believe that’s why emojis were invented, yes?_

_Based on that level of snark, we’re soul mates._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freely admit that the "soul mate" philosophy Emma uses is based on ideas from one of Gini Koch's "Alien" novels. In case you're (still) confused, the gist is that soul mates aren't necessarily romantically involved, but can merely be good/great/best friends. A somewhat relevant point in Ms. Koch's theories that didn't make it in to this tale is the idea that, no matter the circumstances, soul mates always find one another, even across alternate universes/realities.
> 
> As always, thanks for your continued support of this story.


	11. Tuesday: An ending (and a beginning?)

In the end, it doesn’t end with a big fight.

Regina makes it all the way to the stables this afternoon before realizing that she’s left her phone at home. She briefly debates going back for it, but since she is already running a little late she decides to just let it be. It’s not like she needs it for anything, anyway; her FaceTime date with Emma isn’t until later this evening.

Several hours later, Regina can tell something has changed the instant she opens the back door. The house feels… different. Quiet. “Roland?” she calls as she walks inside. “Robin?”

No answer. Yet she could have sworn she saw a light through one of the windows…. She drops her purse and keys on the counter and moves on to the rest of the house. “Hello?” She enters the foyer and sees a light in the living room. She also sees the silhouette of someone on the couch. “Robin,” she states, walking towards the figure. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

The man on the couch remains motionless. Unease settles in Regina’s stomach as she enters the room proper. “What’s wrong?” She rounds the sofa. Robin sits there, hunched over, elbows resting on knees, hands folded in the air. He stares straight ahead. Following his gaze, Regina sees her cell phone resting on the coffee table. The unease in her gut blossoms into dread. What did he see?

“I stopped in to grab my cloak,” Robin speaks softly, “and I realized you’d left your phone. I thought, ‘I should take that to Regina. She’ll probably be missing it.’” Regina’s insides squirm at the calm, monotonous tone of his voice. “As soon as I picked it up, it chimed that you’d got a new message. From Emma Swan.”

 _Shit._ Regina’s insides twist in even more uncomfortable ways. She tries to think of something, anything, to say. But her mind remains stubbornly blank.

Eventually, Robin turns to look at her, tilting his head up to meet her eyes. “This isn’t working, is it?”

“No,” Regina quietly answers. She wants to go on, wants to explain that it did work, once, but she’s changed and they’ve changed and now Emma’s back… but her voice seems to have deserted her.

The former outlaw stares at her for some time, as if he can read her thoughts. Suddenly, he nods his head. “Right then,” he states, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll see myself out.”

Confusion brings Regina’s voice back. “That’s it? That’s all you can say?”

“I think we’ve said enough things to one another over the years, don’t you?”

Regina dips her head in acknowledgement. Robin stares at her for another long moment before offering a slight bow and walking out. “I’m sorry,” Regina says without turning around. She hears a pause in his steps, can feel him looking back at her.

“Me, too,” he replies. His steps resume. Within moments, Regina hears the front door open and close.

And it’s over.

* * *

 

“Are you okay?”

Emma’s words seem to break a trance. Regina blinks and focuses on the screen. “Hello to you too, Emma.”

“Hi. You okay? You seem a little… distracted.” Granted, she called less than a minute ago; it’s possible she pulled Regina away from something.

“I’m sorry. I was just… thinking.”

Emma shifts her shoulders, settling in to the pillows. “About what?”

“Robin just left.”

Emma’s insides clench as they always do at the mention of Regina’s on-again/off-again boyfriend. It takes effort to force words out of her mouth. “How is he?”

“I don’t know.”

 _Wait, what?_ “Um, a little help here. When you say he left…”

“I mean he _left_.”

Emma has to force down the tingle of hope at Regina’s words and tone. “Did you two have another fight?”

“No.” A hint of a question, but the word mostly rings as a fact. “But we did decide to end things. For good, this time.”

Emma quickly schools her features, hiding her glee at this news. “Sorry?”

“Don’t be. I think we both realized that whatever was between us ended a long time ago.”

Emma puts up one last effort at being the concerned friend. “Still, that’s a lot to take in. Do you want to talk some other time?” _Please say no. Please say no._

“No!” Regina answers quickly. Her cheeks color slightly. “I mean, we’re already talking, so why not continue?”

The detective can’t resist a little teasing. “Aw, c’mon Regina, it’s okay to say you missed me.”

“Maybe a little,” Regina allows, the corner of her mouth curling up in a smirk.

Emma can’t help the grin that spreads across her face, especially once Regina gives in to her own smile. _Gorgeous._ “So, Madam Mayor-elect, what else is new?”

Conversation flows easily between the two. Emma does her best to focus on the words spoken, but internally she’s trying to figure out how to make her next move. Eventually, a comfortable silence settles between them. _Now or never._ “So I know it’s kind of short notice, but do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”

“You mean in the wake of my break-up?” Regina doesn’t look angry or upset. Maybe… amused?

“Something like that, yeah.” It takes all of Emma’s willpower to not look away. “I know it’s only a couple of days away, but you’re welcome to join Mara and me, if you want.”

Regina smiles again. “I actually have plans that don’t involve my ex, so I’m going to pass.” Emma’s anxiety begins to creep in; maybe she’s pushing too fast? “However,” Regina continues, “I do like the idea of seeing you in person again. May I come visit the first weekend in December?”

“Yes!” Emma’s face heats up at the speed of her answer. “I mean, of course. You’re welcome any time.”

“Give me a couple of days to make sure I _can_ make it. My schedule is a bit full, just now.”

Emma crosses her fingers, hoping that for once the universe is on her side. “I understand.”

Regina glances at something off-screen. “I didn’t realize what time it was. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

Emma shrugs. “I’ve gotten by on less sleep.”

“Be that as it may, I think it’s time to say goodnight.”

“Fine,” Emma huffs. Then she yawns, ruining the effect.

Regina chuckles. “Goodnight, Emma.”

“’Night Regina. Talk to you soon.”

The brunette smiles one more time before disconnecting. Emma can’t help grinning at the empty screen, her mind already racing ahead with plans and fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!


	12. Thursday: Thanksgiving

Before she re-enters the dining area, Emma takes a moment to just enjoy the sight before her: Four of the most important people in her world, sitting together and enjoying one another’s company. On one side of the table, Elisa and Ruth are talking about some daytime TV show or other. From the other side of the table, Elisa’s husband, Keith, chimes in with the occasional comment while also participating in a rather one-sided conversation with Mara about who is the best Disney princess. Emma always enjoys watching those two interact: The dark-skinned giant with the deep voice and the blonde child. Everyone is relaxed and happy. Emma may not know her birth family, but she’s willing to bet the family she’s built for herself over the years could give them a run for their money. Really, only two more people would have to be here for her to have everyone she cares about together.

Shaking her head, Emma heads back for her seat. They’ll Skype with Henry later, while everyone is here, so that he can say hi. As for Regina… Emma feels a smile steal across her face as she recalls the brunette’s earlier text message:

_Happy Thanksgiving. My calendar is clear, so I’ll see you next weekend._

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Swan?” Elisa’s voice interrupts her musings.

“Just happy to have everyone together,” she replies, giving her partner a quick once-over. For someone who got shot less than a week ago, Elisa appears to be doing quite well. She showed up tonight leaning on only one crutch (Keith brought the second, for when she gets tired); aside from that and the methodical way she’s maneuvered around the apartment she’s back to normal.

“Not everyone!” Mara pipes up. “Henry’s not here!”

“Everyone who could be here,” Emma amends. “And we’ll talk to Henry soon, munchkin, just like we did last year.”

The kid starts looking mopey, but perks up when Ruth asks her to help clear the dinner dishes so they can bring out dessert. Elisa looks like she wants to say something else, but stops herself from doing so. The rest of the meal passes in happy conversation. Soon enough, Emma’s phone rings. She greets Henry and speaks to him for a moment before passing the device on to Ruth. Each of the adults talks to Henry for a few minutes. By the time Emma gets the phone back, Mara is sitting in her lap. The pair talks to Henry for a little longer, asking him about his day and how he likes Pittsburgh (a college friend invited Henry home for the break). After they hang up, Mara helps Keith and Ruth clear the table while Emma helps Elisa settle on the couch so she can prop up her leg. Then Mara wants to play a game, and agrees to Uno only on the condition that she can partner with Keith.

Five rounds of cards later, Mara falls asleep in Keith’s lap. Emma excuses herself to get the little one tucked in. When she comes back to the living area, she sees Keith and Ruth cleaning up the kitchen area, talking softly. She smiles at the sight before dropping into the recliner.

“So how’s Regina?”

If she hadn’t been the woman’s partner for the last five years, Elisa’s question might have surprised Emma. Instead, she just chuckles and looks over at the other detective. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes,” Elisa replies. “So?”

Emma couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face if she wanted to. “She’s coming to visit next weekend.”

Elisa wolf-whistles through a smile. “That sounds promising.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Once again, Emma’s mind starts racing ahead to what could happen, what she hopes will happen

“Earth to Emma, come in Emma!” Elisa smirks at her.

Emma feels her face heat up. “Sorry. My imagination’s been in overdrive today.”

“Whoa, TMI!” Elisa holds up her hands and laughs. “Slow down, or I’ll have to write you a speeding ticket!”

“Oh please! You never even worked in Traffic!”

“I know people.” Elisa’s smile fades a little as she lowers her hands. “Seriously Emma, aren’t you a little worried about rushing into things? I mean you’ve known her barely three weeks.”

Emma takes a deep breath. Elisa does have a point. Typically, Emma takes a slightly more cautious approach to romance, a trait she attributes both to growing up in the system and to Neal’s leaving her high and dry for the cops. Aside from nine months with Walsh and six months with Nina, her relationships with others seem to run their course within eight to ten weeks. But… “I don’t know how to explain it. I just… it feels like there’s this connection between us. Like we already know each other.”

Elisa raises a skeptical eyebrow. Before she can say anything, however, Keith and Ruth re-join them, having finished the clean up. The conversation moves away from Emma’s love life to other topics. All the while though, Emma can feel a little tickle of happiness inside. _Regina’s coming to visit._


	13. Saturday-Friday: Meeting and planning

Surprisingly, it’s not Snow that interrogates Regina about her impending trip to New York.

“So why did you want to move our meeting to today?” David asks, leaning back in his chair.

The question doesn’t surprise Regina. Initially, this meeting was supposed to take place a week from today, after the holiday had passed. Since it was literally the only important item on the calendar for that weekend, though, Regina requested the change. So two days after Thanksgiving, she finds herself in the mayor’s office, once more discussing the upcoming change in power.

Just because the query doesn’t surprise her, however, doesn’t mean she has an answer ready. Regina sits for a moment, fiddling with her pen, trying to think of something to say. “I’m going out of town,” she finally manages.

“To see Emma?”

Regina’s head snaps up. “How…”

David chuckles. “Just a feeling.” He leans forward, folding his hands and resting them on the desk. “Look Regina, we’ve gotten closer in the last few years. I even think of you as a friend, sometimes.” Regina rolls her eyes at his weak humor, and he offers a half-smile in return. “And I know you’ve done a lot of good. But--”

“Let me guess,” Regina cuts him off, “if I do anything to hurt Emma, I’ll regret it?”

He looks her right in the eye. “Bingo.”

“You do remember that she’s a grown woman who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, right?”

He chuckles again, but doesn’t relax. “I remember. But…” He trails off, clearly trying to frame what he wants to say. “Just… just keep in mind that it won’t just be you who regrets something.”

“I’m well aware of the situation,” Regina snaps. She is, too. Ever since she ran in to Emma in that park, her mind has been running a million miles an hour with fantasies, questions, fears.

David holds up his hands. “Okay. I’m sorry for doubting you.” One hand falls back to the desktop, while the other reaches up to rub the back of his neck. The out-of-character gesture startles Regina; she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this unsure. “It’s just… I’ve gotten used to the way things are, you know? No villains with insane plans, no curses. Just a bunch of regular people going about their regular lives.” He catches the look on her face. “Well, not regular, but you know what I mean.” She nods. “My point is people here finally seem to be happy. And as much as I wish that all of my family could be here, I realized a while ago that maybe, for some people, their happiness was somewhere else.”

Regina’s insides clench. He’s just named one of her biggest fears. But if that is really true, then where does that leave her and Emma? Can there even _be_ a her and Emma? Shaking her head, she shoves that question back into its private corner. She doesn’t owe Charming anything. She’s heard him out; now it’s time to go. “Thank you for being willing to meet today,” she states, closing her notes and rising from her seat.

The Mayor sighs as he also gets to his feet. “My pleasure.”

Regina offers him one more nod before turning on her heel and striding from the office.

* * *

 

Monday, 12:00 PM

_Two questions: Do you know when you’ll get here? And do you have anything that you absolutely want to do?_

_My plan is to drive down on Friday, hopefully arriving by the evening. I will trust your judgment when it comes to our itinerary._

_How do you feel about musicals?_

_I don’t have much experience with them. But as I said, I trust your judgment._

[A thumbs up emoji appears.] _Also, forgot to mention that you are welcome to stay at my place._

_I don’t want to impose._

_You’re not! I’m offering._

Monday, 4:30 PM

_Thank you. I believe I’ll take you up on your offer._

Monday, 8:30 PM

_When are you planning on leaving?_

_I haven’t even arrived, and you’re already trying to get rid of me?_

_Ha ha. Just want to know how much time we have._

_I was thinking I’d leave Monday._

_Perfect! BTW, forgot to mention that there is street parking outside the building, but I can also see about getting you a guest pass for the garage._

_I’d appreciate that._

Tuesday, 4:30 PM

_Thought you’d like this._ [Attached video shows Mara smiling and babbling a mile a minute about how she can’t wait to see Regina]

 

Tuesday, 5:30 PM

_I’m flattered. Please tell Mara how much I’m looking forward to seeing her, too._

 

Wednesday, 12:30 PM

_I have your parking pass! Also, did you do the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State building when you were here with the kids?_

_Thank you. We went to the Statue, but not the Empire State building._

Thursday, 3:30 PM

_Just FYI I’m on duty tomorrow until 3:30 pm._

_I understand._

Friday, 7:30 AM

_I will be leaving shortly. See you this afternoon._

_See you soon!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thanks to all who've read, subscribed, left kudos, and/or left comments!


	14. Friday (part 1): Musings

Several times throughout the drive, Regina considers turning around.

It’s ridiculous, in a way. Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, the caster of some of the most complex pieces of magic ever, the ruler who hunted Snow White across an entire realm, is nervous about spending a weekend alone with a woman. Of course, Emma Swan is not just any woman. She’s the product of True Love, the Savior that broke the Evil Queen’s curse. She also doesn’t remember any of that.

Ever since they met again in that park, Regina has had to think very carefully about what she says and how she says it, all to avoid tripping Emma’s damn internal lie detector. It’s exhausting, and each omission and half-truth weighs on Regina in a way she finds rather uncomfortable. Each time, she can’t help but think that this might be the proverbial last straw, that if and when Emma regains her memories this will be the reason she decides to cut Regina out of her life entirely. The very thought is terrifying.

Equally terrifying is the idea that Emma never regains her memories. That Regina’s enchantment did too good a job of replacing real life with a fabrication. Sometimes, Regina doesn’t think this outcome would be so bad. There is some appeal to the idea of a fresh start. But it wouldn’t really be one, because Regina still remembers, which brings her right back to how exhausting this self-censorship is.

Honestly, Regina has a feeling that Emma’s memories will return. It’s simply a matter of where and when and how. While she goes back and forth on if this is a good thing or a bad thing, in the end the only thing Regina cares about is that it’s Emma’s choice. The blonde has had enough big decisions made for her in her life; the least Regina can do is let her make this one on her own.

What scares Regina most about this course of action is that something could still take that decision away from Emma. Call it a fantasy, call it a dream, call it a delusion, but Regina can’t help wonder what might happen if Emma kisses her. Yes, Emma kissed her once before. In the quiet moments in bed at night when she can’t get to sleep, Regina has puzzled over why that didn’t break the enchantment. Maybe this particular spell can’t be broken that way. Maybe their feelings were too fresh and new to count. Maybe (and her heart stutters when she considers this) they aren’t really True Loves. Although, following their exchange of text messages two weeks ago, this thought has less of an impact than it might have at an earlier point in her life. Emma’s position on the matter doesn’t seem to have changed much from when she lived in Storybrooke, and after everything Regina has gone through she finds herself adopting a more pragmatic approach to the idea, as well.

Regina casts a quick glance at her purse where it sits on the passenger seat. She reassures herself that the vials inside are well protected; after all, she wrapped them in her second pair of gloves to pad them. In the event Emma is allowed to make her own choice about the matter, one vial contains a potion that will restore her memories. However, if Emma regains her past and decides she was better off without it, the concoction in the second bottle will remove them again.

At least, that’s the theory. Direct manipulation of her mind by magic would be best, but Regina doesn’t think she’d be able to pull it off, for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, magic in this world works differently than in the Enchanted Forest. The fact that Storybrooke even _has_ magic is something of a miracle. Regina isn’t aware of anyone trying magic outside of the town line, and she doesn’t know if it would work at all, let alone as one might wish. Also, magic is fueled by emotions. The idea that Emma would choose to forget again devastates Regina; should such a situation arise, she likely wouldn’t be in any state to perform magic at all, let alone a spell of such precision.

This train of thought keeps circling back. Each time it does Regina looks at the signs for the next exit and thinks how easy it would be to just turn around and return to Storybrooke. Finally, the fourth or fifth time this happens, Regina shakes her head, hard. “Get a hold of yourself! You’re the Queen! You don’t run from a challenge. You meet it head on!” Regina squares her shoulders and nods. “You’ve prepared for this weekend as best you can. The only thing you have to do now is get to New York.” Nodding to herself once more, Regina reaches for the radio dial. A few moments of work finds instrumental music. The sounds of brass and percussion fill the air as she drives on, ready to face whatever may come.

* * *

 

As 3:30 approaches, Emma becomes more and more useless. That doesn’t surprise Elisa. Overall, her partner has done a decent job of keeping her head in the game this week. But there have been moments where Elisa catches her gazing off into space, or muttering about things that have nothing to do with police work. Thankfully, said moments never lasted very long.

Today turned out to be merely a day of paperwork, wrapping up old cases. The only difference from other such days is the lack of casual conversation. Emma came in this morning and barely said hello before diving into the pile of folders on her desk. She even worked during lunch, which is something Elisa can only remember her doing a couple of other times on Paperwork Purges (Emma’s name for days like these). Being confined to desk duty while her leg heals, Elisa’s more on top of the administrative side of her job. Her portion of the paperwork got finished early this morning; she’s spent the majority of the day helping other detectives with computer work and watching her partner.

They’ve never revisited the conversation from Thanksgiving. Emma seems set on her course, and Elisa respects her friend enough to not constantly question that decision. That doesn’t mean she’s let it go. She knows everyone moves at their own pace, but she still worries that Emma is moving too fast with this relationship. She’s happy Emma has connected with someone, though. The younger woman has a history of keeping people at arm’s length, including Elisa. By Emma’s own admission, she only really has three good friends: Elisa, Keith, and Ruth. Everyone else falls into the category of either casual friend or acquaintance. Elisa’s watched several people briefly become more, but with the possible exception of Walsh, none of them left a big hole when things ended. Honestly, if not for Mara, Elisa sometimes wonders how much Emma would still think about the furniture maker.

Yet somehow, in a little over a month, most of it not even in the same place, Regina has become a part of Emma’s life. Elisa quickly lost count of how frequently the brunette came up in conversation, and not a day goes by without Emma’s receiving a text from Maine. And now Regina is coming for a weekend-long visit.

Elisa finishes the search she’s currently running and sends the results to Detective Rodgers before taking another look at her partner. Emma’s carefully scanning the last page of what looks to be the last report, but her eyes keep wandering to the clock on her desk. Elisa huffs a quiet laugh. “You know the time passes quicker if you don’t keep looking at the clock.”

“I know,” Emma admits, meeting Elisa’s gaze for the first time in hours. “Just having a hard time focusing on work.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Elisa smirks. “Looks like you’re almost done, though.”

Emma looks back down at the paper in front of her. “Just have to finish proof-reading and then sign it.”

“Which case?”

“The Maxim kids.” Emma scowls. Elisa shares the sentiment; the children in question had ended up in the custody of their grandmother after allegations of child abuse by the parents proved true. “Reliving things through paperwork sucks.”

“All the more reason to finish it quickly.”

Emma nods her assent as she scrawls her signature across the bottom of the sheet. “And done!” Her phone rings, and Elisa catches sight of Regina’s name on the screen.

“Not a moment too soon,” Elisa teases as Emma picks up the call.

Emma pointedly ignores her partner as she answers the phone. “Hey! Where are you? …Great! I’m just leaving, so I’ll meet you at my place. You still have the address? …Okay, yes, I realize that was a stupid question.” Elisa laughs as Emma stands and pulls on her coat. “It’s been a long week! …Okay, yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Elisa waits to speak until Emma has disconnected the call and put the phone in her pocket. “Have a good weekend, Emma.”

“You too, Elisa.” Emma grins at her partner before heading for the precinct elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life will be rather busy for the next two months, so I may not be able to update as frequently as I have been thus far. Thank you in advance for your patience, and for your continuing support of this story.


	15. Friday (part 2): Welcome

As weird as it sounds, Emma doesn’t really get nervous until she’s opening the front door of the apartment with Regina right behind her. The week has been a cocktail of anticipation and excitement, with any other feelings either not making an appearances or simply swamped by those two. The nerves began to appear a few minutes ago, when Emma met Regina downstairs to get the latter’s car parked in the garage. Regina’s sleek black Benz presented quite a contrast to Emma’s old yellow Bug, and for the first time since she met the woman Emma once more found herself wondering about Regina’s probably wealthy background. But then Emma could have sworn she saw Regina smile at the older car, and whether she did or didn’t it allowed Emma to push the nerves back down for the moment.

Now, though, with her key in the lock and Regina right behind her, Emma’s nervousness crashes down on her. _What the hell am I doing? Is this really okay? She’s not going to like me. What if she doesn’t get along with my friends? Will this be a total disaster?_ Quietly, Emma takes a deep breath and lets it out, forcing herself to calm down. She did her best to prepare for this weekend. Now, it’s show time.

“Come on in,” she says, pushing open the door and stepping aside to let Regina enter first. “Coats on the hooks, boots underneath.” _Yeesh, calm down, Mom Voice!_ She winces as Regina looks back at her, eyebrow raised. “Um, please?”

The corner of the brunette’s mouth curls up in a smirk, but she pushes her suitcase to the side and does as asked. “Should I expect a lecture on the house rules next?”

“Inside voices only, homework has to be done first thing, and all toys have to be picked up before dinner,” Emma rattles off, smirking back. She pushes the door closed and begins shedding her own outerwear.

Regina laughs before changing the subject. “How long have you lived here?”

“About six years. We moved in a few months before Mara was born.” Emma steps ahead of Regina and motions for the other woman to follow her. “Seriously, though, feel free to make yourself at home.” They reach the end of the hall. Emma pauses as they step into the main room. “Kitchen, dining, living areas,” she points out each in turn. “Bedrooms are back this way.” She leads Regina to the left, past the dining room table and towards the couches. Another quick left, and they’ve entered the apartment’s only other hall. “Mara’s room,” Emma motions to the first door on the left. “I hope you’re alright with staying in Henry’s room,” she continues as she pushes open the second door. “I put clean sheets on the bed and everything.”

“How kind of you.” Regina’s voice sounds a little odd, like she meant to sound dry and amused, but there’s a hint of… something (Pain? Regret?) that makes Emma turn around and take a good look at the other woman. The brunette’s eyes are darting around the room, like Emma would expect, but they look a little watery, too, and Emma suddenly worries she’s made a mistake.

“If you’d rather, I can set up the sleeper sofa,” she offers.

“No, this will be fine.” Regina’s voice is steadier. Emma’s superpower isn’t going off, so she decides to let it go for now.

“Bathroom is through there,” Emma points to the sliding door on the wall. “It connects to my room. Both doors lock, but we’re pretty good about just knocking if they’re closed.”

Regina nods. “Good to know.”

Silence falls, not quite awkward, but not really comfortable, either. Finally, Emma manages to say, “Well, I’ll leave you to get settled,” and quickly exits. She ducks into her room briefly to lock up her sidearm and put away a few other things (Regina arrived literally as she walked in the front door) before heading back to the kitchen to start laying out things for dinner. While her hands work, her mind races. _She’s here! She’s here! Why’d she look that way when she saw Henry’s room? Did it make her think of Roland? I hope she’s okay. She SAID she was okay. She knows I can tell when she’s lying, so she has to be telling the truth. She’ll be okay in Henry’s room. Right next door to my room…_

“Can I do anything to help?” Regina’s voice interrupts Emma’s thoughts. The blonde looks over her shoulder to see the older woman standing by the dining room table.

She smiles and points to the island that marks the edge of the kitchen space. “Company would be nice.” She turns back to the spread of ingredients before her. “How was the drive?”

Behind her, she hears one of the stools at the island scrape against the floor. “Much more pleasant than when I shared it with a busload of teenagers.”

Emma chuckles as she finishes spreading sauce on the pizza crust before her. “I bet. I remember chaperoning a few school trips for Henry.”

“What were those like?”

“Not too bad. Then again, I’m the ‘cool mom’, so the kids were usually pretty good about listening to me.”

Regina’s laugh surrounds her. “Would your son agree with that assessment?”

“Hey!” Emma turns around briefly to shoot a playful glare at the other woman. “I’ll have you know that most of the kids in Henry’s class told me I was the coolest.”

“If you say so.” Regina’s eyes sparkle with laughter.

“Fine. Don’t believe me. See if I care.” Emma grins before turning back to her work. “To be fair, though, I never had to watch the kids for longer than a day. I don’t know if their opinions would have changed after I enforced lights out.”

“Something tells me your methods of enforcement would have resulted in you getting in trouble along with the kids.”

Emma laughs as she tosses a final handful of cheese on the pizza. “You have any special toppings you like on your pizza?”

“Any vegetables?”

“Let me see what I’ve got.” Emma opens the fridge and starts rummaging inside. “Bell pepper?”

“You do know that’s not a vegetable, right?”

“Well, unless you want carrot sticks on your pizza, it’s as close as I’ve got right now.”

“The pepper will be fine.”

Emma quickly slices up the pepper and covers half of the pie. She tosses pepperoni over the other half, finishing just as the oven chimes the end of its preheat cycle. She slides the pizza into the oven and sets the timer. “So,” she says as she starts putting things in the dishwasher, “I figured we’d just hang out here tonight. I know long drives can be tough.”

Regina nods assent. “I appreciate it. What about the rest of our weekend?”

Emma’s insides jump at the word ‘our’. She takes a deep breath before continuing, hoping Regina approves of the plans she’s made. “Well, tomorrow is Library Day for Mara and me. You’re welcome to join us, of course. Then I was thinking we’d go to either the zoo or the Natural History Museum. I know you’ve already been to both, but Mara really wants to show you her favorite parts.” She closes the dishwasher and leans against the island, opposite Regina and a little to the other woman’s left.

“I would like that,” Regina murmurs.

Emma grins, her heartbeat picking up. “I’ll let you two decide which sounds better. Then Mara will spend tomorrow night and Sunday with Ruth. I’ve got tickets for you and me to see the ‘Into the Woods’ revival tomorrow night. Sunday, we can do the Empire State Building, and anything else that sounds good. Ruth has insisted we have dinner with her that night, though.”

“She insists?”

“When Ruth offers to make dinner, you do NOT say no.” Emma bites back the rest of her explanation. If they get to it later, that’s fine, but she doesn’t want to overwhelm Regina this early in the visit.

“I rarely turn down a home-cooked meal,” Regina assures her. “Maybe--” Whatever she starts to say gets lost in a yawn. “Excuse me.”

“Do you want to lie down for a bit?” Emma asks. _Nice going, idiot. You know how tiring those long drives can be._

For a moment, Regina looks like she may argue, but a second yawn quickly follows the first. “That sounds like a good idea,” she admits as she stands up. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Holler if you need anything.” Emma watches as her guest walks out of the living area. She lets out a sigh. _You got this Swan. You got this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thanks for reading.


	16. Friday (part 3): Family Night

Regina wakes with a start and sits bolt upright in bed. _What the… Where…_ She blinks the sleep out of her eyes and looks around. _New York. Emma’s apartment. Henry’s room._ The memories rush back in. She shakes her head; it’s been a long time since she slept that heavily. Then again, it’s been a long time since she’s had such an emotional day. A glance at the clock on the bedside table reveals she’s been asleep for about an hour. Now that her heart has slowed and she remembers where she is, Regina realizes that someone dropped something somewhere else in the apartment, and it was that sound that woke her. _Not bad for an impromptu alarm clock._ She listens for a moment to make sure no one’s been hurt; she remembers all too well how such sounds can herald trouble in a house with children. Thankfully, she hears nothing else to cause concern.

Regina looks around the room once more, both familiar and not. However old he gets, Henry still loves comics; one shelf holds several piles of both single issues and collections. A low bookcase overflows with paper- and hardback novels of various genera. The top of the dresser bears several awards for excellence in creative arts, as well as a fencing trophy. This last surprised Regina slightly; the Henry she remembers didn’t have much time for athletics. Then again, David had begun to teach him sword fighting after the curse broke, so at least Henry’s choice of sport doesn’t feel out of character. Shaking her head slightly, Regina gets up from the bed and makes her way to the attached bathroom. Time to make herself presentable once more.

After the crying jag that preceded her nap, it’s hardly a surprise that her makeup needs a touch up. _Hopefully Emma didn’t hear any of that,_ Regina thinks as she works. _I doubt I could come up with a convincing story for why I was crying in her son’s bedroom._ The fix doesn’t take long. A quick check to make sure her blouse and slacks aren’t too rumpled from being slept in, and she feels ready to face her host once more.

The smell of fresh pizza greets her as she steps into the hallway. Inhaling deeply, Regina heads towards the living area. She doesn’t remember Emma being a very good cook; then again, she never really had an opportunity to test the blonde’s culinary skills. She enters the main room and stops in her tracks as an overwhelming feeling of _rightness,_ of _being home,_ hits her. Emma stands at the kitchen island, cutting up the pizza. She looks up and smiles at Regina. Regina barely has a chance to smile back before Mara cries out, “’Gina!” The little one runs over and wraps her arms around Regina’s legs in an enthusiastic hug.

“Hello, Mara,” Regina chuckles. She crouches down to give the girl a proper hug, touched by the child’s greeting.

“Hey munchkin, you need to finish setting the table.” Amusement colors Emma’s voice. “Otherwise I’ll have to feed the pizza to the fairies.”

Mara hastily lets go of Regina and dashes back to the table. Regina chuckles again, both at the girl’s antics and at the resemblance to the events at Snow’s a couple of weeks ago. She joins Emma at the island. “Can I do anything to help?”

“You want to get drinks?”

“Sure.” Regina heads for the fridge. “What will you have?”

“Water for now. Apple juice for Mara. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

Regina pulls the pitcher of juice out. “Glasses?”

“In the cupboard to your right.”

Opening said cupboard, Regina immediately spots several plastic cups bearing images of the Disney Princesses. Much to her amusement, Mara’s favorite appears to be Tiana, if the fading of the paint on that particular cup is any indication, and Snow White is nowhere to be seen. She uses the fridge’s built-in water dispenser to fill two regular size glasses with water before pouring juice into the Tiana cup. She carries one glass and the cup over to the table while Emma helps Mara fill a plate. She returns to grab the second glass for herself and fill her own plate. “It smells delicious,” she compliments Emma.

Is it her imagination, or does the Savior flush at the praise? “Thanks. Hopefully it lives up to its promise.”

“I’m sure it will.” Regina plates a slice of pizza and adds a good portion of mixed vegetables from the bowl on the counter. “What happened to the carrot sticks?” she teases.

“Oh, you wanted frozen vegetables on your pizza?”

Oblivious to the adults’ conversation, Mara carefully takes her plate to the table. “’Gina!” She sounds astonished as she notices the cup. “You picked my favorite!” She scrambles into her seat.

“However did she guess?” Emma laughs as she serves herself. “Regina, can you help Mara scoot closer to the table?”

“Certainly.” Regina gently pushes the little girl’s chair in. “Is that good, Mara?”

Mara nods. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Regina smiles. “Does it matter which chair I sit in?” she asks Emma.

“Nope.” Regina glances at the two available chairs for a moment, thinking quickly. She opts for the seat on Mara’s left, which puts her across the small table from Emma. She settles in just as Emma reaches the table. “Hey Mara,” the blonde says, “you should tell Regina about the art project you worked on at school today.”

What starts as a story about Mara’s horse drawing moves to her questioning Regina about working at the stables. Tales of Regina’s students remind Mara about her own classmates, which leads to some rather hilarious stories about phone calls Emma’s gotten over the years from both Mara’s and Henry’s teachers.

Mara wants to watch a movie when the meal ends, but Emma counters with the suggestion of either a board game or a puzzle, instead. To Regina’s surprise, the little one immediately crows, “Monopoly!”

“All right, but clean up dinner and bath time _first_ ,” Emma instructs. Regina watches, bemused, as Mara immediately starts clearing the table. Emma chuckles at Regina’s expression. “She really likes Monopoly.”

“So I gathered.” Regina huffs a laugh. “Am I allowed to help with the clean up?”

“If you’d like,” Emma states, picking up her dishes. “But don’t feel like you have to.” Regina merely picks up her own dishes in response.

Barely a half-hour later, the kitchen is clean, the leftovers are put away, and Mara has had her bath. Emma directs Regina to have a seat on the couch while Mara pulls the requested game off a low shelf. “I’m on ‘Gina’s team!” the girl announces as she sets the box on the coffee table.

Regina nods her agreement while taking a closer look at the box. “Star Wars Monopoly?”

“Don’t judge,” Emma admonishes as she starts setting up the board.

“Too late,” Regina laughs. “Are there any special rules I should know about?”

“Nope. Pick your piece, and let’s get started.”

The next hour passes in a haze of laughter and merriment. Mara proves to be a surprisingly good partner. Thanks to her suggestions, she and Regina quickly pick up some of the best properties. Emma does her best, but can’t quite catch up. When the timer dings to signal game’s end, they don’t even have to count up to determine the winner.

“Next time, I get Mara on my team,” Emma complains good-naturedly as she looks at the pile of fake money in front of the pair.

“Good game, Mama!” the little blonde smiles sweetly, prompting both adults to laugh.

“Alright you little real-estate mogul, time for bed.”

“Can ‘Gina read me a story?”

Regina freezes for a moment, caught off guard by the request. Emma looks at her, somehow communicating with her eyes alone that she’ll support Regina either way. Regina swallows before turning to look at Mara. “I would love to read you a story.”

Within minutes, Regina sits next to Mara on the child’s bed as they read about one of Ms. Frizzle’s incredible field trips. Mara’s choice of story surprised Regina at first, but she’s quickly realizing that the girl, like her mother, has hidden depths.

Mara falls asleep about halfway through the book. Regina slowly gets up from the bed, years of practice allowing her to do so without disturbing the child. She sets the book on the bedside table and quietly exits the room.

“Let me guess,” Emma states as Regina re-enters the living room, “she fell asleep before you finished.” The game has been put away. Emma sits on one end of the couch, relaxing against the cushions behind her.

“I take it that’s not uncommon.” Regina glances at the available seats: Recliner, floor, beanbag chairs, and the other end of the couch. _Couch._

“It doesn’t happen often, but she was so wired today I figured she’d crash pretty hard.” Emma swings her feet up so they rest on the middle cushion of the sofa, allowing her to face Regina. “She was just a _little_ excited about your visit.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Regina half-jokes.

Emma shrugs. “Kids know who they can trust.”

Regina simply shakes her head in wonder. It’s taken her _years_ to earn the trust of the citizens of Storybrooke, even those that weren’t part of her original curse. There are times when she looks in the mirror and all she sees looking back at her is the Evil Queen, days when she believes herself broken beyond repair. That one person places such trust in her after such a short time… “She is an amazing child.”

“That she is,” Emma agrees, eyes shining with pride.

“Out of curiosity, why ‘Mara’?”

“Promise not to laugh at me?” Emma waits for Regina to nod before continuing, even though Regina doesn’t quite understand the question. “She’s named after a Star Wars character.”

Regina feels her eyebrow creep up. “I admit I’ve only seen one or two of the movies, but I don’t remember any characters by that name.”

“Okay, one, if we’re going to keep hanging out, we will be watching _all_ of the movies at some point. Two, the character doesn’t appear in the films. Do you know about the books?” Regina nods her head slowly; she vaguely remembers Roland reading one. “Okay, well, long story short, there’s a crap ton of the things, but some of the best were written by Timothy Zahn back in the early nineties. Mara Jade was one of the characters he created.”

“What makes her so special?”

“She’s strong, smart, independent, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She takes care of herself, and those she cares about. Everything I hope my daughter will be.”

Regina smiles, both at the sentiment and the very _Emma_ response. Before she can say anything, however, a yawn erupts from the blonde. “Like mother, like daughter?” Regina teases.

“Maybe,” the other woman grins sheepishly. “You okay if I turn in?”

“I’ll be fine,” Regina assures her. “In fact, I may not be far behind you.”

Emma nods and unfolds herself from the couch. “I’ll be quick in the bathroom. Like I said earlier, feel free to help yourself to whatever.” She walks around the back of the couch, clearly headed for the hall, but stops right next to Regina. Almost tentatively, she places a hand on Regina’s arm where it lays on the back of the sofa. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Regina covers Emma’s hand with her own and squeezes. “I am too.”

Emma returns the squeeze before pulling her hand away and departing. Regina sits for some time, running her hand over the spot where Emma touched her. Eventually, she snaps out of her daze, rises, and heads for her room, only pausing to turn off the living room lights.

Either she sat on the sofa for longer than she realized, or Emma is faster than she thought; regardless, the bathroom is available for her use. Her nightly routine taken care of, Regina re-enters Henry’s room. She doesn’t really feel tired, so she takes a closer look at the bookcase. Within moments, she spots a set of battered paperbacks bearing the Star Wars logo. Carefully, she removes one, examining the cover’s artwork before flipping it over to read the synopsis. A quick check of the copyright confirms her suspicion: This is one of the books Emma mentioned. Clearly, Henry shares his mother’s passion for the tale. Call it curiosity, call it a desire to be closer to these people she once knew and wants to know again; Regina settles under the covers and begins reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite possibly the single fluffiest thing I have ever written. Hope you enjoyed!


	17. Saturday: Date Night

Given that Emma had to drop Mara off at Ruth’s and wait for Regina to finish in the bathroom, the detective finds it a little surprising that she’s the first to be ready for their night out. _Date night. It’s okay to call it date night in your head. Just don’t say that out loud until you manage to talk to Regina._ And they do need to talk. Emma could be the only one here who feels like there’s a potential for more than just friendship, although that doesn’t jive with everything that’s happened since they met. Either way, one of Emma’s goals tonight and tomorrow is to have that conversation with Regina, to see where this is going. Because if all they’re going to be is friends, Emma needs to know _now_ , before she gets in any deeper.

Emma gives herself a shake as she enters the kitchen area. Normally, she quiets her mind by focusing on some sort of physical activity, like going for a run or washing the dishes. But the kitchen is clean, and her current outfit of dress shirt and slacks would be, not ruined, but definitely worse for the wear after a workout. Instead, she leans against the island counter and pulls out her phone. She opens the photo app and begins reviewing the shots from today, deleting duplicates or out-of-focus images. As usual, quite a few shots feature Mara. A fair amount of these also show Regina, as Mara insisted on showing her _everything_. Emma can practically feel her heart melt at the sight of Regina and Mara reading together at the library. Photos of Mara goofing around in the museum make Emma chuckle. But her new favorite has to be one that depicts the three of them standing in front of the tyrannosaurus in the museum’s lobby, Mara in Emma’s arms and making her “dinosaur face” while the two women laugh. Emma smiles as she remembers that Regina was the one who suggested getting someone else to take the picture, rather than trying for a selfie. Clearly, the brunette knew what she was doing.

The click of heels on floor brings Emma back to the present. She looks up and can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. _Hot damn._ Regina wears a deep red, long-sleeved, knee-length dress that hugs her in all the right places. She’s fidgeting with something in her purse, so she doesn’t see Emma right away. When she looks up a moment later though, Emma swears she feels her heart skip a beat. Regina’s short hair frames her face perfectly, and her make-up is just enough _more_ to heighten her already considerable beauty, helped by the smile now gracing her lips. The brunette’s eyes travel down and back up Emma before locking gazes with the blonde. “You clean up nicely, Detective.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Madam Mayor-elect.” Emma pushes herself off the counter. “I’ll have to make sure no one tries to steal you away from me.”

“My hero,” Regina smirks, but the light flush on her cheeks betrays how she feels about the compliment.

Smile widening, Emma bows and sweeps her arm towards the front door. “After you, my lady.”

* * *

 

The conversation during dinner ranges far and wide: Their favorite moments from the day lead into a lively discussion of their preferred genera for reading and movies, which leads to Emma teasing Regina about her decidedly sketchy and arguably outdated view of pop culture. Regina argues playfully but passionately about the need for staying up-to-date on politics and actually getting outside once in a while, rather than staying cooped up in front of a screen. Laughter and smiles flow freely. Almost too soon, it feels, Emma glances at her watch and signals for the check.

“Are you okay with walking to the theater?” Emma questions as she holds Regina’s coat for her. “It’s not far.”

“How far is ‘not far’?” Regina asks half-jokingly. It is winter outside, after all, complete with cold and a dusting of snow.

“About a block and a half.” Emma pulls on her own wool coat. Seeing Regina’s hesitation, she hastens to add, “I mean, if you really want to, we can get a cab--”

Regina cuts her off. “Fresh air sounds wonderful.”

“I don’t know about ‘fresh’,” the blonde jokes as she leads the way out of the restaurant. “I imagine NYC can’t compete with Maine, in that respect.” She offers her arm to Regina.

Smiling, the brunette slips her arm through Emma’s. “Tell me about this show we’re seeing,” she requests as they set off down the sidewalk.

“Adult fairy tales.”

“Excuse me?”

Emma chuckles, presumably at Regina’s confusion. “This show takes the original Grimm’s versions of several fairy tales, mixes them together, and puts them on stage.”

“How does that make them ‘adult’?”

“Have you ever read the original versions of Cinderella or Rapunzel?”

“A long time ago.” Before Henry had broken the monotony of Storybrooke’s earlier years. “I confess I don’t remember much.”

“Let’s just say Disney cut out some of the really nasty stuff. Sondheim left most of it in.”

“The author?”

“I think ‘creative mastermind’ is a better term. Most of his shows are kind of dark.”

“I see. Which fairy tales does the show use?”

“Cinderella, Jack and the beanstalk, Red Riding Hood, and Rapunzel are the main ones, although Snow White and Sleeping Beauty show up, too. There’s also a baker and his wife, who are mostly original characters.”

“That sounds… interesting.” Almost as interesting as the fact that the Enchanted Forest, in whatever form, continues to influence Emma’s life.

Emma clearly knows something’s up. “I know it sounds a little crazy, but trust me: You’ll enjoy it.” She looks and sounds confident, but Regina can detect the faint trace of uncertainty in the blonde’s eyes.

“It will certainly be different,” Regina allows. “Out of curiosity: Why a musical for our night out?”

Emma shrugs. “You said you didn’t have much experience with them, and it’s definitely a New York thing to do. Plus, I like them.”

Regina can read between the lines: Emma wants to share something special with her, and wants Regina to like it as much as she does. Warmth spreads through Regina and she squeezes the other woman’s arm in reassurance and thanks. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy the show.” Emma flashes her a crooked grin. “How did you become interested in musicals?” Regina certainly doesn’t remember that particular trait from before.

“Henry.” Emma’s voice and face shine with fondness for her son. “One of his friends would invite him along to shows. Then Henry would buy the albums and play them, and the songs would get stuck in my head. So I’d want to see the shows, and Henry would volunteer to go with me.”

“How kind of him,” Regina chuckles.

“I know, right?” Emma laughs. “Anyway, it’s something we’ve been doing since we moved here.”

This glimpse into Emma’s life since Storybrooke moves Regina. “Well, I can’t wait to see the show.” She squeezes the detective’s arm again as they lapse into a comfortable silence. The number of people around them increases as they approach the theatre. Regina tucks herself as close as possible to Emma’s side. Emma maneuvers them through the crowd with ease, and in a very short time the duo reaches the theatre’s entryway. Regina panics slightly as Emma’s arm pulls away from her. The blonde flashes her a reassuring grin and snags her hand, instead.

“Just had to get our tickets.” She holds up the two slips of paper, having just retrieved them from an inside coat pocket. They join one of several lines. An usher scans the tickets, and they step into the warmer but no less crowded lobby. If anything, the enclosed space makes the mass of people seem larger. Regina feels another flash of panic; she has never done well in crowds. Oh sure, she attended balls and met with whole villages in the Enchanted Forest, but she always stood apart from the masses, either near a throne or behind a line of her Black Soldiers. Even during her years in Storybrooke, with the small population, she’s kept to fringes of things, always remaining in control of such situations and having an escape planned. Here, now, the exits are blocked by many bodies and the chatter of so many excited people fills the space and…

Emma squeezes her hand again and leans in close. “You okay?”

Regina swallows. “I’m not… fond of crowds.”

Emma immediately shifts so that she can tuck Regina’s arm back in hers. “I promise, this is as bad as it gets. Let’s drop off our coats, and then we’ll head for our seats.”

Regina nods gratefully, tucking herself back against the blonde’s side. Faster than she would have thought possible, Emma weaves through the multitude of bodies to the coat check. Coats exchanged for a numbered slip, the detective once more intertwines their arms before making for the nearest flight of stairs. The crowd thins as they ascend, and the knot in Regina’s chest begins to relax, although she makes no move to separate herself from Emma. She notices a smile tugging at the corner of Emma’s mouth, and feels her own lips turn up in response.

In short order, the pair reaches the theatre proper. A smiling usher takes their tickets and beckons for them to follow. Regina’s eyes widen as they reach their seats in the front row of the balcony. Her gaze roams as she settles in, trying to take everything in. The stage, especially, fascinates her: A painted backdrop fills the proscenium, depicting the titular woods. For the first time in a long time, Regina feels the faintest touch of homesickness for the Enchanted Forest.

“What do you think?” Emma’s voice breaks in to her thoughts.

“It’s beautiful,” Regina breathes. She shakes her head slightly, pulling herself back to the present, and turns to face Emma. “I hope the rest of the show lives up to the scenery.”

Emma laughs. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” She passes Regina a copy of the Playbill. “Check out the cast.” Obediently, Regina looks at the page Emma has open. Five rows of black-and-white faces look back at her, some smiling, some not. Names below each shot identify the actors. “This guy,” Emma points to a photo of a dark-skinned man labeled _Norm Lewis_ , “and these two ladies,” tapping photos of _Beth Leavel_ and _Laura Benanti_ , “all have amazing voices.”

“As opposed to the rest of the cast?”

“I’m sure they’re great, too,” Emma replies, “but they’re all making their Broadway debuts. These three have been around for a while. I’ve seen them on stage before, and they’re fantastic.” Regina hums acknowledgement as she flicks through the rest of the program, finding the complete list of characters. She scans the names, and lets out a chuckle. “What’s so funny?” Emma asks.

“Some of the character names. Like ‘Cinderella’s Prince’ and ‘Rapunzel’s Prince’. They’re not what I expected.”

“Wait ‘til you see the characters.”

Before Regina can ask Emma about her cryptic remark, the auditorium lights dim. She closes the program and turns her eyes to the stage as a pleasant voice issues reminders about turning off phones and the location of the emergency exits. As the voice tells them to enjoy the show, the lights go out completely.

“Once upon a time,” a rich voice states. The orchestra hits their first note, the stage lights turn on, and the show begins.

* * *

 

They sit in the cab, waiting for yet another light to change. Intellectually, Emma knows this ride hasn’t really taken much longer than it usually would. But Regina has barely said a word since they left the theatre, and Emma is trying to respect the other woman’s space and not babble, but she can’t help wondering if she made a terrible mistake with the choice of show or if she did something else wrong or… Fingers snake between her own and squeeze. Emma’s gaze turns from the window to where Regina’s black-gloved hand has intertwined with her own grey-gloved one on the seat between them. “Sorry I’ve been so quiet,” the brunette apologizes.

“Everything okay?” Emma asks, still looking at their joined hands.

“I think so.” The response pulls Emma’s eyes up to Regina’s face. “I’m just… trying to process. The show wasn’t exactly what I expected. Not that I didn’t enjoy it,” she quickly adds. “It’s just…”

“A really different way of looking at things?” Emma suggests. It had certainly been her first thought the first time she heard the show.

“Exactly,” Regina nods.

“Anything in particular stand out to you?”

Regina thinks for a moment. “I did enjoy the Baker’s Wife’s line about being in the wrong story.”

Emma knows that’s not the only thing, but pushing right now would probably blow up in her face. There’s no harm in letting Regina set the pace of this conversation. “That’s always been one of my favorites, too. I think everyone’s had a moment like that at some point in their lives.”

“I know I have.” The comment hangs in the air for a moment, but when Regina speaks again, she changes the subject. “You were right about those three actors’ voices. I think I’d want to see the show again just to hear them sing.”

“I know, right? I was planning on seeing the show anyway, but their casting made it a priority.”

“Have you seen the show before?”

“Henry was part of his high school’s production.” She has to laugh at Regina’s expression. “Yeah, it surprised me, too.”

“What part did he play?”

“He was part of the crew, so he wasn’t onstage. Although I always thought he’d make a good Prince. He was certainly dramatic enough as a teenager.”

Now Regina laughs. “I think most teenagers would qualify if that were the only criteria.”

Emma joins in the laughter. The cab stops again. Automatically, Emma glances out the window again and realizes they’ve reached her building. She glances at the meter and passes the cabbie a few bills, thanks him, and exits the car, holding the door for Regina. Emma feels Regina’s hand slide into hers as the cab pulls away.

The conversation on the way up to the apartment continues in much the same vein: Light, touching on the funnier moments of the show, never delving into the many layers of subtext and deeper meaning. She participates, yet she can tell there’s more that Regina isn’t saying. _Is Regina afraid that we’ll disagree over something? That I’ll be angry if she doesn’t love the show?_

They’ve entered the apartment and are hanging up their coats when Emma decides to push, just a little. “You know, one thing I always appreciated about this show is the fact that the characters argue with one another.”

“Are you saying you like to fight?” Regina asks as she heads down the hall.

Emma follows, trying with minimal success to keep her gaze focused on the back of Regina’s head. “I will if it’s necessary, but that’s not what I’m getting at.” Her eyes start wandering downwards, and she wrenches them up. “One of the things that I hate about the Disney movies, especially the early ones, is that the heroes never argue with one another. They fight with the villains, the villains fight with each other, but the heroes rarely argue with each other. Makes them kind of boring, honestly.”

“I certainly wouldn’t call any of the characters in the show boring,” Regina agrees as she pulls a glass out of the cupboard and fills it with water. Emma can’t help the thrill that runs through her at how _right_ the whole scene feels. “What do you think about how the characters deal with the narrator?”

“One of the best scenes in the show,” Emma replies, grabbing a glass of water for herself. She gestures towards the living room, and Regina nods. “At one point in my life, I would have been on board with tossing the person who wrote my story to the giant.” She settles into her usual seat at the end of the couch.

“At one point? Not any more?” Regina settles in opposite her, recreating their pose from last night.

Emma shrugs. “As frustrating as it can be some days, my life has made _me._ I can wish all I want, but even if I could go back and change things, there’s no guarantee I’d turn out the same way, or have the same people in my life.” She makes a point of looking right at Regina, so the brunette doesn’t just think Emma is referring to her children.

From the light blush that steals across the older woman’s face, she gets the message. Silence descends for a few moments before Regina murmurs, “What would you change?”

Emma’s heart speeds up at the sudden shift in the conversation. “Sometimes, I still wish I’d known my parents. Or that I could ask them why they didn’t keep me. I wish I’d have realized what Neal was going to do. And while I wouldn’t change them in the slightest, I wonder what my life would have been like without Henry or Mara.” Vaguely, she wonders why she’s not more uncomfortable talking about this stuff with Regina. Heck, it took her almost six months to tell Walsh about her childhood in the system, and she never got that far with Nina. Why is she so willing to tell Regina all of this? But the other woman merely gazes steadily at her, taking an occasional sip of her water, and as cheesy as it sounds Emma can feel support and respect radiating off of her. “What about you?”

Regina’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised to have her own question turned back on her. “I… I don’t…” She looks down.

Immediately concerned and sorry, Emma puts her glass on the coffee table and leans forward. She desperately wants to touch Regina, to reassure her, but she doesn’t know how that will be received right now. She settles for placing her hand next to Regina’s leg. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Regina doesn’t say anything, but she does place her own hand on top of Emma’s. Emma immediately flips her hand over, lightly wrapping her fingers around Regina’s. They just sit there, Regina clearly wrapped up in her thoughts, Emma both giving space and support and silently berating herself for pushing too much, too fast. “I would have stood up to my mother.”

Regina speaks so softly that it takes Emma a moment to realize what she said. When her brain finally processes the words, two parts of her roar to life. The cop part of her immediately begins dissecting everything Regina ever said or did, searching for hints of past abuse and its lingering effects. The part that Henry calls her “angry mama bear” also makes itself heard, and it wants nothing more than to protect Regina so that she never again has reason to look this lost, this helpless, this hurt. She desperately wants to ask questions, to find out what happened and when, but she forces herself to merely wait, to simply be present. _If she wants to share, great. If not, that’s okay, too._ She shifts closer, halving the distance between them.

“But it’s like you said, isn’t it?” Regina continues, her voice slightly louder. “What my mother did made me the person I am today. As painful as my life was at times, it brought me here.” She squeezes Emma’s hand. “And there’s no place I’d rather be.”

_I can think of a few… Bad Emma! Down girl!_ Emma swallows, trying to ignore the way her temperature spiked in response to her thoughts. She sits silently, waiting. After several moments, she realizes that a) Regina has apparently finished talking, and b) the brunette still hasn’t looked up from their joined hands. A closer look reveals tension in the other woman’s shoulders, like she’s waiting for something bad to happen. Emma’s heart breaks. She scoots closer as her right hand reaches out. Gently, she grasps Regina’s chin and tilts her head up. Emma waits until Regina’s eyes meet hers. The brunette’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. When Emma speaks, she takes care to enunciate each word precisely. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Regina flushes as a solitary tear falls down her cheek. Emma’s eyes follow its path, lingering on the lips that have haunted her dreams for some time now. She’s so close to them, to Regina, and if she leans forward just another inch or two…

“Emma,” Regina murmurs. Emma would swear she can hear her own longing echoed in that voice, but it’s mixed with pain, and Emma’s conscience stops her before she does something stupid. Instead, she leans back slightly and pulls the other woman towards her, letting go long enough to wrap her arms around Regina’s torso. She can feel Regina tense momentarily before relaxing into the embrace. The brunette’s head lands on Emma’s shoulder, and Emma can feel the other woman’s arms circle her waist. They sit like this for a few moments before Emma realizes that Regina’s shoulders are shaking, and that there’s a small damp spot on her, Emma’s, shirt.

“Come here,” Emma says, using the tone of voice she normally reserves for the victims she encounters at work or her kids when they’re upset. Careful to not break the embrace, she maneuvers their bodies until they’re lying down, stretched out on the couch, torsos slightly elevated by a throw pillow, Emma on her back, Regina mostly on top of her and wedged against the back of the couch. The brunette doesn’t object to the position change; in fact her only response is to shift her arms so that they don’t get pinned under Emma. Instead, Regina’s right arm now wraps behind Emma, occupying the slight space between the pillow and the arm of the couch, while her left hand clutches at Emma’s shirt. Regina’s head rests on Emma’s left shoulder. Emma can feel the wet spot spreading. She tightens her grip on the other woman, murmuring reassurances, until both of them fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Can't promise that updates will be as regular as they once were, but they will happen. As always, thanks for reading!


	18. Sunday-Monday: What just happened?

_Under other circumstances, Regina might find Neverland interesting, even beautiful. But her son is missing, the temperature varies from beastly hot by day to almost frigid by night, and the company leaves much to be desired. Curled on the ground near the fire, her eyes find Snow White and Prince Charming, wrapped around one another, eyes closed, apparently at ease despite recent events. The sight both sickens her and fills her with a mix of jealousy and longing. Emotions roiling, she rolls over. Her eyes immediately meet Emma’s gaze. “Disgusting, aren’t they?” the blonde whispers from her own spot on the ground. Surprisingly, her tone reflects Regina’s own mood._

_“Downright sappy,” she whispers back, smirking. She attempts to suppress the shiver that runs through her body at Emma’s answering grin, but doesn’t quite succeed._

_“Cold?” Emma asks._

_“A bit,” Regina replies, only half lying._

_Emma’s gaze turns inward for a moment. She shifts, and at first Regina thinks she’s going to remove the red leather jacket she’s currently using as a blanket and offer it to the brunette. Instead, Emma lifts the edge of the garment in invitation. Regina barely hesitates before she accepts, crawling across the small distance between them and nestling in to the blonde’s side. She doesn’t even jump when Emma’s arm slides around her waist, encouraging her to move closer. Instead, Regina lays her head on the Savior’s shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut…_

Sunlight pierces the darkness behind Regina’s eyelids. It’s not as bright as she remembers, but her sleep-addled brain can’t figure out quite why. Regardless, she has no wish to get up. She turns her head, burying her face in the neck of her sleeping companion. The whole Neverland experience had been a veritable nightmare from start to finish, and she hates that she still dreams about it, even dreams as relatively pleasant as this one. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, marveling at how realistic and persistent this particular dream is. The fact that she can still smell Emma… _Wait a second…_

Memory rushes back: The late night conversation, her confession, Emma pulling her close and holding her. They apparently fell asleep on the couch, because Regina can still feel its back against her side.

Emma shifts beneath her, pulling Regina out of her thoughts. “Morning.” The blonde’s breath tickles Regina’s scalp.

She’s tempted to pretend she’s still asleep, if only to stay in this moment for a while longer. Even with her muscles protesting how long they’ve been in this position, she feels a bone-deep sense of contentment that has eluded her for far too long. But the more she thinks, the more awake she gets. “Morning,” she murmurs into Emma’s collarbone. Is it her imagination, or does the blonde shiver slightly?

It might be laughter, for amusement laces Emma’s next remark. “And I thought I was hard to get up.”

Regina remembers trying to rouse Henry; she has no trouble believing he inherited that particular trait from Emma. She shifts, pulling her head back so that her face is exposed once more, keeping her eyes shut against the morning sun. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

It’s later than Regina normally sleeps, even on weekends, but it’s not like there’s anything she _has_ to do today, other than enjoy her time with Emma. She suddenly realizes her left hand rests on Emma’s ribs, just below the younger woman’s breasts.

“You still awake?” Emma runs her hand along Regina’s arm; clearly, she has no objections to their current position.

“Mm-hm.”

“So, I was thinking, I know this great breakfast place. We could go there, head for the Empire State Building afterwards?”

“Mm-hm.” Regina can’t help nuzzling against Emma. “But not yet.”

She can hear the smile in Emma’s agreement. “Not yet.”

* * *

Surprisingly, Emma’s nerves don’t reappear until they’re headed to Ruth’s apartment for dinner.

In hindsight, it seems a bit odd that she didn’t feel nervous at any other point during their day. In Emma’s head, last night and today were the time to see if she and Regina could be more than friends. When thinking about today, she’d planned to have that talk at some point. Then last night’s conversation had happened. Miraculously, it hadn’t cast a pall over today, but Emma felt like maybe she shouldn’t push her luck in having _the talk_ just yet.

That didn’t mean she didn’t think about it, though. Because if anything, today just gave Emma a whole pile of evidence that her attraction isn’t one-sided. From the easy conversations to the comfortable silences to the fact that they always found a way to touch (holding hands, Regina’s arm through hers, actually wrapping their arms around one another’s waists while walking through the park that afternoon), it’s clear Regina feels something for her, too. Emma remembers a moment up on the observation deck at the Empire State Building, when Regina caught Emma staring at her. The look that passed between them… Even though Emma still wants to, _has_ to, talk about this with Regina, the look they shared up there is enough confirmation for now.

As they approach Ruth’s door, Emma suddenly realizes that Regina has fallen a half step behind. She looks at the other woman. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Regina answers.

It’s not a lie, but Emma knows Regina well enough to see the tension in the brunette’s shoulders, the way she pulls herself up a little taller. Rather than call out Regina’s behavior, though, Emma squeezes Regina’s hand and offers a reassuring smile before pulling away to dig out her key. She unlocks the door and pushes it open while knocking. “We’re here!”

“Mama!” Mara comes flying out of the kitchen. Emma holds out her arms and the little girl jumps up for a hug. “Hey munchkin,” Emma smiles, squeezing her daughter.

“’Gina!” Mara’s arms let go of Emma and reach for the brunette. Smiling, Regina takes Mara from Emma, allowing the blonde to close the door. She turns back around as Ruth appears in the hall.

“Hi Ruth!” She pulls off her jacket and hangs it in the hall closet.

The elderly woman approaches with a smile. “Hi dear.”

“Ruth, this is my friend Regina. Regina, Ruth.”

Regina shifts Mara to her hip and offers her hand to Ruth. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure,” Ruth replies, taking her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” Emma can see the tension that underlies the attempted joke.

“Certainly.” The simple reply is enough; Regina visibly relaxes. “Mara,” Ruth’s attention shifts to the child, “we still have to finish getting dinner ready.” Mara nods and gives Regina another squeeze before the brunette sets her down. “Make yourself at home,” Ruth tells the women before following the little girl back to the kitchen.

“Can I get your coat?” Emma offers. Regina nods, removing the garment and passing it over. Emma hangs it next to hers in the closet before taking Regina’s hand in hers again. “Come on.” They reach the dining room just as Mara and Ruth exit the kitchen. Ruth adds the dish she carries to the several already on the table, while Mara scrambles in to her seat. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Water is fine.”

Emma nods. “Mara? Juice or milk?”

“Milk, please.” Mara points to the seat to her left. “Sit by me, ‘Gina?”

Emma’s heart melts as Regina smiles and takes the offered seat. She gets beverages as quickly as possible and rejoins her family at the table, taking the seat between Regina and Ruth. Serving dishes get passed around and plates are filled. Conversation among the adults falters at first; instead, Mara happily relates the events of her stay with Ruth. Things warm up from there, and soon enough the three women talk easily. Ruth asks Regina about herself, impressed when Regina admits to being both former and future mayor of her town. At Regina’s request, Ruth and Emma explain how they met (Emma realized Ruth both lived in her building and worked at a shelter near the precinct, so one day she offered the elderly woman a ride). Then Ruth wants to know how Regina and Emma met, so the pair tells about that day in the park. Oddly, Emma feels her internal lie detector ping; now is not the time or the place to dig into that, so she pushes it down for the moment. The conversation moves on, as does the meal. Several times, Emma drops out of the conversation to simply enjoy the sight before her: Three of the people she loves most, in the same room, getting along.

All too soon, it’s time to go. Everyone pitches in to clear the table. Mara insists Regina be the one to help her gather her things. Emma heads towards the front door, accompanied by Ruth. “Thanks again for watching Mara.”

“You’re welcome. It sounds like you and Regina had a good time.”

“We did.” Emma opens the closet to start retrieving coats, but stops when Ruth places a hand on her arm. She looks at the older woman.

“You look happy,” Ruth states.

“I am.”

Ruth nods. “I like her.”

Emma smiles and hugs her friend. “Thanks, Mom.” Ruth chuckles at the term of endearment and returns the hug. They pull apart as Mara and Regina appear. Emma pulls out coats, passing Regina’s to her, as Mara says goodbye to her granny.

“Thank you for dinner,” Regina tells Ruth.

“You’re welcome. Feel free to stop by the next time you visit.”

Regina looks surprised at the invitation, but promises to do so. Emma gives Ruth another quick hug before ushering Mara out the door.

* * *

To Regina’s surprise, Emma says yes when Mara begs for a movie night. Unsurprisingly, the girl falls asleep about the time Robert and Giselle begin their walk in Central Park. “And this,” Emma notes, looking down at the child stretched across their laps on the couch, “is why I insisted the bedtime chores get done _before_ the movie.”

Regina chuckles. “Very wise of you.” She notices Emma shifting. “Do you want help?”

“I got it.” Emma maneuvers out from under her daughter before crouching down and gathering the child in her arms. “Back in a sec.”

Regina stares at the blonde’s retreating back, a sense of longing pulling at her insides. It would feel so right to follow the pair, to help tuck Mara in and kiss the girl’s forehead before wrapping her arms around Emma… _Snap out of it, Regina._ She forces her attention back to the still-playing movie. Surprisingly, the writers at Disney seem to have finally come up with a wholly original creation (at least, she’s never heard of Andalasia), although it’s obvious they drew inspiration from the Enchanted Forest and its inhabitants. Giselle is clearly cut from the same cloth as Snow White, while Edward and Nathaniel fulfill their stereotypes equally well. Narissa has churned up all sorts of unpleasant thoughts, from the actions of Rumple and Cora to some of Regina’s own decisions.

Regina shakes her head, forcing those feelings away. On screen, Giselle has started to sing again, another song about how you know you love someone. Suddenly annoyed with the character, Regina grabs the remote and stops the movie.

“Not a Disney fan?”

“Not especially.” Regina looks up at Emma as the blonde drops back down to the sofa. Her heartbeat picks up when she notices that Emma isn’t sitting quite as far away as she did earlier. “I have to admit,” she continues, shifting slightly towards the other woman, “I don’t quite understand your fascination with fairy tales.”

Emma shrugs. “It’s the kids’ fault?”

“Nice try.” Regina softens her words with a smile.

Emma smiles back. “Yeah, okay, they get it from me. I don’t know, I guess I’m just a sucker for a happy ending. I…” She trails off. Regina waits. “What about you?”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t you want a happy ending?”

_More than you know._ “I… I did, at one point.”

“At one point?”

Regina swallows the sudden lump in her throat, and looks down. “Every time I think I’ve gotten it, something happens.”

“Like?”

_A person’s heart literally gets crushed. A curse is cast or broken. The fairy dust is wrong. Someone I thought I’d never see again walks back in to my life._ “Just… something.”

Silence stretches between them. “You know,” Emma finally says, “I think happy endings are like being in love: You have to work for them.”

“Maybe.”

“Would you… would you be… I mean…”

Regina feels her shoulders tense, surprised and confused by Emma’s stammering. _Is she…_

Emma takes a deep breath, lets it out. “Can we try for a happy ending? Together?” Regina’s gaze finally snaps up from the couch. Emma flushes when Regina’s eyes meet hers, but she continues. “I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but I… I just have this _feeling_ , like we’re supposed to be together. Can we… can we try?”

* * *

Emma’s heart races so quickly she can barely tell one beat from the next. Elation at actually asking the question wars with anxiety over the fact that Regina has yet to answer. In fact, the brunette is just sitting there, frozen, her eyes directed at Emma but clearly not seeing her. All of Emma’s old fears and anxieties, of being rejected, of not being enough for someone, begin clamoring for attention. She pushes them away as best she can, but the longer they sit in silence the harder it becomes.

Finally, she can’t stand it any longer. Tentatively, she reaches out and rests her hand on the other woman’s. “Regina?” The brunette blinks, appears to come back to herself, but she doesn’t say anything. “Regina? Say something?”

“I…” She stops, swallows. “Part of me would really like to say yes…”

Emma’s heart sinks. This is not how she imagined this conversation going _at all._ Heavy, uncomfortable silence settles around them. Eventually, Regina turns her hand so she’s holding Emma’s. “Can we… can we talk about this more tomorrow? Before I leave?”

Emma looks down at their hands, trying to find comfort in the fact that Regina will still touch her. “Sure,” she nods.

“Thank you.” Regina squeezes her hand before standing up. “Goodnight Emma.”

Emma can’t bring herself to look up at the other woman. “Goodnight Regina.”

* * *

 

Emma isn’t going in to the precinct this morning, but she still has to get up to get Mara to school. She may have hoped, when requesting the time off, that she and Regina would have spent the night together. _Got a little ahead of yourself, didn’t you?_ Instead, when the alarm goes off she opens her eyes to an otherwise empty bed. Last night’s conversation ensured that what little sleep she did get was not nearly as restful as she would have liked; between the conversation and the lack of sleep she’ll be amazed if she makes it through the day without a migraine. _Move it, Swan. You’ve got a kid to get to school and a girl to win over._ She stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom, sliding the door to Henry’s room closed in an effort to not disturb Regina.

Amazingly, she manages to get Mara ready and out the door with a minimum of noise. The little one does insist on saying good-bye to Regina, so Emma quietly opens the door to Henry’s room. “Bye, ‘Gina,” Mara calls softly. Emma ruffles her daughter’s hair and gently herds her towards the front door.

After seeing Mara safely on to the school bus, Emma returns to the apartment. She listens carefully, but doesn’t hear anything to indicate that Regina has gotten up yet. Sighing, she starts cleaning up Mara’s and her breakfast dishes while her mind tumbles over and over, trying to come up with arguments to convince Regina why they should make a go of it.

Cleaning done, she pours a mug of coffee and wanders over to the couch with the intent to just relax (as much as she can) until Regina wakes up. Something on the coffee table catches her eye: A small vial sitting on top of a piece of paper with her name on it. Her stomach drops, as does her mug. _No, no, no…_ She practically sprints down the hall to Henry’s room, throwing open the door and slapping the light switch.

The bed is empty.

Regina is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already hard at work on the next installment. As ever, thanks for reading!


	19. Monday-Wednesday: 1 1/2 weeks of misery

Regina spends the drive back to Storybrooke alternately berating herself for her cowardice ( _Why are you running away from what you want?_ ) and justifying her actions to herself ( _I hurt everyone I love. Emma is better off without me._ ). By the time she pulls in to town, she has almost managed to convince herself that she's done the right thing.

She spends the next few days avoiding people, particularly the Charmings, as much as possible. In contrast to when the first curse broke all those years ago, she doesn't hole up in her house 24/7. Mind you, she seriously considers it, but in the end realizes that that would definitely draw more attention than she wants. So she goes through the motions of a normal life: She works at the stables, runs necessary errands, and spends time on things that she'll need to focus on once she returns to the Mayor's office. She acknowledges people that greet her on the street (a few), and interacts with her students and their parents (a few more). But she barely speaks to Snow or David in person, and takes to letting phone calls go to voicemail. Text messages may earn a reply, but only hours after the fact.

If not for the distinctly Emma-shaped hole in her life, Regina might pull off this charade of real life. But the blonde won't leave Regina alone, either in real life or her imagination. From the moment the she wakes to the moment she falls into a restless sleep, Regina feels haunted by memories old and new and what-might-have-beens. She catches herself looking at her sofa, imagining Emma seated at the other end. Or she daydreams about Mara running through the house the way Henry once did. Which is more than a little ridiculous, because even if she had had the courage to tell Emma how she really felt, who's to say the blonde would have regained her memories? That she'd still want to speak to or be with Regina afterwards? That if by some miracle they got together, they'd move to Storybrooke? After all, Emma has built quite a life for herself in New York….

Such thoughts more often than not send Regina into a frenzy of physical activity and mundane tasks, desperately trying to focus her attention elsewhere. Occasionally, late at night, she allows herself to indulge in fantasy, eventually falling asleep with tears on her pillow.

The hardest part of all of this is ignoring Emma's texts and phone calls; the blonde is nothing if not persistent. Regina still receives several texts a day, and multiple voicemails. She debates blocking the detective's number, but can't bring herself to do so. But she doesn't read or listen to anything, either. By the end of the week, her phone shares that she has over a dozen missed calls and voicemails and double that number of unread texts from the younger woman. Regina almost finds herself relenting, almost reading or listening, because surely the fact that Emma is still trying means something, right? But then memories of others who pursued her and what happened to them overwhelm her once more, and she resolves once more to spare Emma that fate.

Several times, Snow tries to corner Regina and get her to talk about what's going on, what happened in New York. Of course, Regina has spent decades perfecting both the art of avoidance and the art of keeping things from Snow White. The former princess's attempts are unsuccessful, but she keeps trying, even going so far as to send Neal over with a fully prepared dinner on Saturday. ("Mom's worried you aren't eating.") Regina merely smiles, hugs the boy, accepts the food, thanks him, and sends him on his way.

Sunday, Regina gives in to the depression that's dogged her for days. She spends the day curled up on her couch, wallowing in guilt, despair, frustration, fear, and heartbreak. By sundown, her eyes are red and swollen, her nose feels like sandpaper from how often she's had to blow it, she has a mild headache from the amount of wine she's consumed, and several piles of dust around the living room mark when she let loose with her magic in anger.

Monday morning, she uses magic to restore the room to its normal appearance before heading to the stables, trying not to think about how it's been a week since she ran out on Emma.

Monday blurs into Tuesday blurs into Wednesday. The wallowing session on Sunday seems to have helped slightly; at least, her feelings aren't quite so sharp and overwhelming. Instead, the world almost greys out, nothing making much of an impact on her. Last week, she had to actively think about  _not_  thinking about things. Now, her mind has apparently learned the trick. She moves through her days in a mechanical, detached manner. Stables, house. Nothing else matters. So when someone knocks on her door late Wednesday night, she initially doesn't answer. She figures that it's just Snow, finally come to actually confront her and make her talk. The doorbell rings, and still she ignores it. But then whoever it is knocks again before ringing the bell again, and now Regina feels something for the first time in days: annoyance.

Grumbling, she puts down her wine and heads for the door as the person on the other side knocks  _again_. She unlocks the door and throws it open. "Get it through your head, princess, I don't-" Her sentence chops off short at the sight of her visitor.

Emma Swan is standing on her doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but the next installment should be up within the week. Thanks for reading!


	20. Wednesday (or is it Thursday? Did anyone look at a clock?)

Regina lets her in to the house, which Emma takes as a positive sign. Instincts and training kick in and she can’t help giving the entryway a quick once-over. What she sees confirms her long-held suspicions about Regina’s background, because this whole place screams _money_. Regina simply closes and locks the front door before brushing past the detective and retreating up the short flight of stairs and down the hall. Emma follows silently, entering the kitchen area as Regina retreats behind the center island. Emma stops on the other side, noting the half-empty glass and the nearly empty wine bottle. The brunette picks up the glass and leans against the counter behind her.

“What can I do for you, Miss Swan?” Something in Regina’s words, in her tone of voice tugs at Emma, adding to the odd feeling of déjà vu she’s had since she drove into town.

Emma reaches into her jacket pocket, pulls out the vial, and sets it on the counter. Regina’s eyes widen in surprise and her fingers tighten on the glass. Emma doesn’t say anything, merely leans against the island and waits. Eventually, Regina swallows. “It’s still full.” Emma nods in agreement. “Didn’t you read the note?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to talk to you before I did anything.”

Now Regina looks confused, although she tries to cover it by sipping her wine. “Why?”

“Well, for one thing, your note was a little vague.” Maintaining eye contact with Regina, Emma pulls said note out of her pocket and holds it up, quoting from memory. “‘If you drink this, everything will make sense.’ What the heck?” A little heat creeps in to her question.

Regina’s eyes drop to the floor. Her left arm wraps around her torso. “So drink.”

“Uh-uh, nope. This isn’t some fairy tale where you eat or drink something and solve all--”

“And what if it is?” Regina’s eyes fly back up to Emma’s, dark with an emotion Emma can’t name.

“What?” Emma straightens up.

Regina pushes away from the counter. She sets her wineglass back on the island. “If this is a fairy tale, what part do you play? The knight in shining armor?”

“That depends: do I need to rescue you?”

Regina chuckles mirthlessly. “I am no damsel in distress, I assure you.”

“Glad to hear it. I prefer a partner who can take care of themselves.”

“We’re not partners.”

“We could be.” Regina blanches and looks away. “Why does that idea scare you so much?”

“You don’t know me.”

“You’re intelligent, kind, caring, great with kids, and have a wicked sense of humor. You can also be incredibly stubborn.”

Regina laughs, but it’s not the happy sound Emma knows. “I forgot how stubborn _you_ can be.” She brings her eyes back up to meet Emma’s. “Magic is real.”

“Okay?”

“Did your lie detector go off?”

“No.”

“Then I’m telling the truth.”

“Or what you believe is true.”

Regina rolls her eyes and leans forward, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter. “Listen carefully, Detective. I care about you, a lot more than I probably should. I am also the reason your life turned out the way it did. As much as I might want that partnership, that happy ending you offered, I honestly don’t know that I deserve it. Even if I did, I cannot, in good conscience, enter into a relationship as one-sided as this one would be. I _know_ you Emma, in ways that you don’t remember. And unless you’re willing to remember, there cannot be a happy ending for us.”

* * *

 

Silence reigns in the kitchen. Regina’s heart races, yet her mind is oddly calm. Chalk one up for the liquid courage she’s been imbibing tonight; she doubts she could have said all of that to Emma otherwise. She’s made her move, and now it’s Emma’s turn.

For her part, the detective hasn’t stopped looking at Regina since they entered the kitchen. It’s almost as disconcerting as the fact that she hasn’t yet asked a question about or commented on Regina’s outburst. She has to be thinking about it, but her face remains impassive. _I guess all of that detective training counts for something._

Eventually, Emma drops her gaze to the vial on the counter. She lifts it, examines it. She looks at Regina, then back to the container. “So if I drink this, we can try for that happy ending?”

Too many emotions bubble up in Regina, and she has to look away. “If you still want to.” She picks up her wineglass and turns around to put it in the sink. She stays facing that way, hands gripping the edge of the basin, unable to turn back and watch as Emma makes her decision. A faint scraping sound signals that Emma has at least opened the vial. _That’s it, then. She’ll drink, she’ll remember, and then she’ll leave. Once again, proof that the villains don’t get a happy ending._ Regina closes her eyes, paying attention to the sounds behind her and trying to keep any tears at bay. She hears Emma take a breath and hold it, then a slight gasp. _It’s done._ _I wonder if she’ll say anything before she leaves?_

The sound of footsteps reaches her ears. _I guess not. Well, it’s not like I don’t deserve…_ Belatedly, she realizes that the footsteps are getting closer. _It can’t be…._ But then she feels a warm hand on her cheek. She turns her head, eyes opening, to find Emma standing less than a foot away. Green eyes meet brown for a long moment before Emma begins to slowly lean forward, clearly giving Regina time to back away if she wishes. Instead, Regina leans in and meets Emma halfway for the kiss.

* * *

 

They end up sprawled on the couch, Regina half-lying on Emma while the blonde wedges herself into a corner. Regina apologizes repeatedly, for keeping Emma in the dark, for not facing her, for running away. Emma reassures her that she forgives her for all of it, fighting to keep her voice steady in the face of her returning memories and Regina’s tears, pressing gentle kisses to Regina’s scalp as she embraces the older woman. A small part of Emma feels amused at the brunette’s behavior; clearly, the alcohol has had more of an effect than Emma first realized.

Eventually, Regina calms. Emma relaxes her hold a little as the other woman shifts and settles. “Feeling better?”

Regina nods against Emma’s shoulder. “Feels like I owe you another apology for this.”

“Hey,” Emma places a hand under Regina’s chin and gently tilts the brunette’s head up until their eyes meet. “You can always, _always_ talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Clearly, she’s said the right thing, because Regina surges forward and kisses her, hard. Emma returns it, but holds back slightly; with Regina’s mental state impaired by alcohol, Emma wants to make sure nothing happens they may regret later. Besides, she has a strong suspicion that Regina may be close to crashing….

Sure enough, Regina yawns as soon as she pulls away for air. Emma can’t help chuckling. “Past your bedtime, Madame Mayor?” Regina is either too tired or too drunk to glare at her; she merely nods agreement. “Come on,” Emma continues, shifting so both of them are sitting upright, “let’s get you to bed.” She stands and offers her hand to the other woman.

Regina accepts the hand, rises a little unsteadily to her feet. “What about you?”

“Uh…” Truthfully, Emma didn’t do the best job of thinking this trip out. She remembered to pack a few changes of clothes in a duffel, but never really thought about where she’d be spending the night, fantasies notwithstanding. And she’ll be damned if she does anything to or with Regina when the other is clearly not in her right mind. _There’s always Granny’s…._

Regina tugs at her hand, pulling Emma out of her thoughts. “Stay with me.” Something of Emma’s concerns must show on her face, because the brunette quickly continues, “Just to sleep.”

“Okay,” Emma agrees. “Meet you upstairs? I just have to grab something out of the car.” Regina gets a worried look on her face, so Emma closes the slight gap between them and places a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Regina finally nods, but she doesn’t let go of Emma’s hand until they reach the front hall. She starts up the stairs while Emma exits the house. The detective quickly makes her way to the Bug and retrieves her bag. As she turns around, she notices a silhouette in the upper level window; she waves at Regina before locking the vehicle and heading back inside.

By the time Emma checks that all lights are off downstairs and reaches the second floor, she feels a little jittery with nerves. _Nothing’s going to happen tonight,_ she promises herself. _Heck, for all you know Regina will stick you in one of the guest rooms._ But the only light upstairs comes from the open door of the master bedroom. _Or not._ Emma takes a deep breath and approaches. Regina’s nowhere to be seen, but the closed bathroom door provides a clue to her whereabouts. “I’m back,” Emma calls.

“Out in a minute!” Thankfully, it’s much less, because suddenly all Emma can do is stand awkwardly by the bed. Regina emerges in a lavender pajama set, pants and a button down shirt, and Emma has trouble breathing. _Damn, she looks good in anything._ “All yours,” Regina states.

Emma nods her thanks and brushes past the other woman to get to the bathroom, forcing herself to breathe as she does so. Thankfully, she makes it in and shuts the door before she can embarrass herself. She quickly changes into her sleep clothes (tank top and flannel pants), washes her face, and brushes her teeth. Even this abbreviated routine is enough to calm her; by the time she sets her bag in an out-of-the-way spot against the wall, Emma can feel her body relaxing and her eyelids drooping.

Emma re-enters the bedroom to find Regina already under the covers, eyes closed. The lamp on the opposite bedside table has been left on. Smiling at the sight, Emma makes her way to the other side of the bed. She takes a moment to disable the alarm on her phone before setting the device on the nightstand. With a sigh, she slides in to the oh-so-soft bed, settling in before she reaches over to turn off the light. She feels the bed shift beside her, and turns her head as Regina scoots over and nestles into her side. “Goodnight, Emma,” the brunette murmurs.

“Goodnight, Regina.”

* * *

 

Regina wakes to a headache, likely courtesy of last night’s wine. She mutters a simple incantation and sits up once the pain recedes. Depressed or not, she’ll likely take the day off from alcohol; the headache doesn’t bother her much, but she could do without more hallucinations, especially such heartbreaking ones. True, her bed looks a mess, but lately she’s been moving around a lot in her sleep, so that proves nothing. _Did I dream the whole thing?_

A phone rings from downstairs. _Great, I left it in the kitchen._ Sighing, Regina swings her legs over the side of the bed. She pushes herself to her feet before catching sight of her cell phone on her bedside table. _Did I imagine that?_ Again, she hears a phone ring, but it’s clearly not hers. The third ring cuts off midway, and her ears pick up the sound of a voice, a very _familiar_ voice.

Regina nearly trips over her own feet as she makes for the bedroom door. The hallway and stairs fly by under her feet, and she has to force herself to slow down as she approaches the kitchen. She can still hear the voice, but her heart pounds so loudly she can’t make out the words. She enters the kitchen to see Emma standing at the stove, phone propped between her ear and shoulder as she uses a spatula to adjust something in a skillet. The blonde looks over at Regina and smiles. Regina beams at her in return and walks over to wrap her arms around the other woman from behind.

_Not a hallucination. Not a dream. Reality._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait. As ever, thanks for reading!


	21. Thursday: Reunions & Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I save notes for the end of the chapter, but I just had to share: Mara is real! Seriously, one of my students' first and middle names are Mara Jade, and she looks almost exactly how I pictured the character.

The conversation over breakfast is both easy and awkward. Emma explains why she waited as long as she did to come to town (failing to locate Storybrooke on a map; successfully tracing Regina’s cell phone; having to request additional time off from work; making sure Henry was okay looking after Mara). For her part, Regina answers questions for Emma about what has happened since she and Henry had to leave. On the one hand, Emma is slightly amazed more hasn’t happened in those eight years; when she lived here, it seemed there was some new crisis every week or so. On the other hand, enough has changed that her thoughts are starting to whirl again.

Thankfully, Regina is patient and understanding. She is quiet when Emma needs her to be, and offers information when the blonde requests it. Even through her emotional turmoil, Emma can sense that Regina’s worried about something, but the brunette doesn’t bring it up, whatever it is.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this all straight.” Emma leans against the kitchen counter as Regina loads the dishwasher. “The last major catastrophe was your half-sister terrorizing everyone, and that was seven years ago. Neal died as a result of her schemes. My parents and you have finally made peace with one another. I have a little brother. Magic works here. Did I miss anything?”

Regina chuckles. “Nothing important.” The pajama-clad brunette straightens up and wipes her hands on a nearby dish towel. Anyone who doesn’t know her would think she’s relaxed, but Emma can see the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes don’t quite meet the other woman’s.

“Hey,” Emma reaches out and snags Regina’s hand. “Are you okay?”

Regina’s gaze drops to their joined hands. “I…”

Emma waits for a few moments, but Regina seems to be well and truly lost for words. Emma tugs gently, pulling the older woman over to stand in front of the blonde. “Talk to me, Mills.”

Regina still won’t look her in the eye. “I can’t believe that you’re really here, that this is really happening.”

Not a lie, but not the whole truth, either. Thanks to memories both new and old, Emma can make a pretty good guess at what’s going on. “Look Regina, I’m not going to lie: This is a lot to take in. Regaining my real memories, realizing that you all have been here this whole time, how much I’ve missed…” She takes a deep breath, lets it out. “But if you’re worried about me running away? You don’t need to be. I gave up on that strategy a long time ago. It’s going to take some work, but I’m here to stay.” She uses her free hand to tilt Regina’s face up, forcing the brunette to meet her eyes. “With you.”

Regina’s eyes get all watery, but she smiles and lets Emma pull her into a hug. “With you,” she echoes.

* * *

 

As much as Regina may want to keep Emma to herself, she knows that will never happen. Already, she can sense the detective’s eagerness to get out and see the town and reconnect with its residents. Of course, the first of those residents better be the Charmings, or things could get ugly.

They head upstairs to get ready for the day. At her own insistence, Emma uses the guest bathroom for her shower, although she does join Regina in the master bathroom once both are dressed. The blonde dries and brushes her hair while the brunette applies a light layer of makeup. As they work, they discuss plans for the day. Regina has to go to the stables. Proving how well Regina can read her, Emma states her intention to wander around town and catch up with her friends and family. She picks Regina’s brain for information on where people will most likely be, starting with her parents.

“You’re sure David will be at city hall?” Emma asks as they descend the stairs.

Regina rolls her eyes at the back of Emma’s head. “No, he’ll be off slaying a dragon south of town.” Despite her obvious nerves, Emma shoots a pleased grin at her as they reach the main floor. Regina returns it, albeit a little unsurely. “What?"

Emma opens her mouth, but after a moment of silence simply leans in and kisses Regina, hard. When she pulls back, her grin hasn’t lessened. “I missed you.”

Now Regina can’t find the words she wants. So she wraps her arms around Emma’s waist and pulls the blonde in for another kiss. When they come up for air, Regina rests her forehead against Emma’s. “I missed you, too.”

Still grinning, Emma kisses Regina light and quick, and pulls away. “Can I give you a ride to the stables?” She extracts her coat from the closet and tugs it on.

As much as she wants to spend time with Emma, Regina doesn’t think her nerves are up to riding in the yellow death trap today. “No, thank you.”

“Alright,” Emma shrugs as she helps Regina with her coat. “Then I’ll--” Hurried knocking interrupts. “Expecting anyone?”

“No.” Confusion colors Regina’s reply and seeps into her thoughts as she heads for the door. There’s no reason for anyone to be at her door at this time of day. So who…? A sudden suspicion hits. _I suppose I really shouldn’t be surprised…_ Taking a deep breath, Regina throws the deadbolt and opens the door. “Hello, Snow.”

“Regina? Is… is that Emma’s car…?”

Regina feels Emma’s hand on her lower back a moment before the blonde speaks. “Hi Mom.”

* * *

 

Apparently, Snow sacrificed her prep time while her students are at PE to come check on Regina. Honestly, Emma feels slightly relieved at the news that her mother can’t stay all that long. It’s one thing to hear that her parents and Regina have buried the hatchet; experiencing it is something else entirely. Before leaving, Snow invites them to dinner that night, assures Emma that David would love to see her and is, in fact, at his office, and hugs both Emma and Regina.

It’s the first of many, many reunions that day. Her dad, Marco and August, Archie, Ruby, Granny, Leroy, Belle… Heck, she even has a surprisingly pleasant encounter with Gold outside the library. Of course, that may be due to the presence of his and Belle’s son, whom he introduces as Gideon. The little boy looks to be about Mara’s age, and smiles shyly at her as he clutches his father’s hand. Emma feels a slight pang at the resemblance to Neal.

As she returns to Regina’s house later that afternoon, Emma almost wishes they could reschedule dinner. While she doesn’t regret going out and seeing everyone, today has been one of the more intense experiences of her life. She’d like to nothing more than to curl up with Regina and just process all that’s happened. _Maybe I’m just tired._ She really didn’t get much sleep last night, after all. Regina’s not due back for another hour or so, and they don’t have to be at the Charmings’ until an hour after that. _I could lie down, just until Regina gets home…_ No sooner does this thought occur to her than Emma suddenly feels just how exhausted she really is. Climbing the stairs takes more effort than it should. On reaching the bedroom, she has just enough energy to pull off her boots before collapsing on to the bed. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow.

* * *

 

While it wasn’t the easiest of days at the stables, Regina still feels better than she has in two weeks, a feeling entirely due to Emma’s arrival last night and everything that has followed. Pulling in behind the Bug in her driveway, a smile steals across her face. She honestly can’t think of another time when she felt this happy.

“I’m home,” she calls as she lets herself into the house. She sets down her purse, removes her boots, and hangs up her coat, but the blonde doesn’t appear. “Emma?” A quick check of the downstairs yields only empty rooms, so Regina heads upstairs. “Emma?” Still no response, and now a little worry creeps in. Before it can gain any traction, Regina reaches her bedroom, pulling up short at the sight in front of her: Emma, curled up in the middle of the bed, fast asleep.

Another smile pulls at Regina’s lips. She briefly contemplates joining the detective, as she could certainly use a nap. But that would only lead to them being late for dinner, and then they’d never hear the end of it. Besides, she refuses to subject her linens to barn dust and muck. So she grabs a blanket off the window seat and covers Emma before retrieving clean clothes and heading for the bathroom. She’ll shower and change, and if Emma hasn’t woken up by then, Regina will just have to wake the Savior with a kiss.

* * *

 

The nap definitely helped. So did waking up with Regina’s lips on hers. But Emma’s emotions are still a bit tumultuous, and as they climb the stairs to her parents’ place she starts to feel anxious about meeting her brother. Which, on the one hand, sounds a little ridiculous. Then again, she didn’t even know she _had_ a brother until this morning, whereas he’s probably known about her his whole life. Who knows what kind of stories he’s heard about her, or what kind of opinions he’s formed as a result. Oh, and her parents opted to name him after Emma’s one-time lover. Given the role Neal Cassidy apparently played in helping to stop the Wicked Witch of the West, she supposes she’s not too surprised, but especially after running into Gold and his new kid today, it seems like a lot to handle. Is it too late to tell Regina that she wants to just go back to Mifflin Street? Sure, they’re standing right in front of the door, but they could easily just sneak back out….

As if in response to Emma’s thoughts, Regina’s hand enfolds the other woman’s and squeezes. “I’m right here.”

Emma squeezes the brunette’s hand in return. “Thanks.” She takes a deep breath and lifts her other hand to knock on the door.

She’s barely finished when the door opens to reveal her father. “Hey,” he greets them, stepping aside to let them in. He grins. “Welcome back.”

An invisible weight lifts from Emma’s chest at his choice of words. David has always understood how much weight words carry for her, how saying or hearing the wrong thing can upend her life. He doesn’t push, somehow sensing what is or isn’t too much. The very fact that he didn’t call the loft “home” means that, thankfully, he understands that she needs time before that label might apply again. “Thanks,” she says as she and Regina enter. She can tell by his answering half-smile that he understands what she isn’t saying.

Snow calls David’s name for help with something, and he heads for the kitchen area. Emma closes the door and shucks her coat while studying her surroundings, comparing them to her newly-restored memories. Less has changed than she would have expected, at least down here. Sure, there’s new furniture, and a few more toys scattered around than when she lived here, but the basic layout hasn’t been altered. Regina moves across her line of sight, heading for the dining area and the boy there, and Emma’s vision tunnels.

Her little brother looks nothing like his namesake. Not that he should, but she still hadn’t been able to shake the thought. Neal Charming has their mother’s dark hair, but his face is all David. Neal looks up as Regina approaches and smiles at her, and Emma feels her heart stop, because she recognizes that smile. It’s one her children give her, and one she sometimes sees in the mirror or in pictures, one that she now recognizes as a Charming family trait. His lips move; clearly he and Regina are talking, but Emma can’t hear them over the roaring in her ears. Fleetingly, she thinks how easy it would be to pull the door back open and just run.

 _Oh no you don’t. You haven’t run from anything in over a decade, and you’re not going to start now. Breathe, Swan. In, out. In, out. There you go. You can do this._ Taking one more deep breath, Emma walks over to the dining area. “Hi. I’m Emma. You must be Neal.”

* * *

 

Neal Charming has always known he had an older sister. Mom turned a lot of her and Emma’s adventures into bedtime stories. Dad and Aunt Ruby have some pretty good stories about her, too. It feels like a lot of the grown-ups in town met the Savior at some point. But Neal also knows that Emma left Storybrooke before he was born, and didn’t come back. He’s seen a few photos over the years, but for the most part, Emma Swan has always seemed more fiction than fact. So when Mom announces on the car ride home from school that Emma is back and will be at dinner tonight, Neal doesn’t know what to think.

Part of him is excited to meet the famous Savior, breaker of the Dark Curse, slayer of dragons, and best sheriff ever (after Dad). But another part of him is scared and worried. He knows (from an argument he overheard a long time ago when he snuck out of bed) that Emma didn’t remember that her family lived here, didn’t remember that magic is real. Does this mean her memory is back? Is she angry at them? Does she know about Neal? What if she doesn’t want a little brother?

Mom is so happy she’s practically floating around the kitchen while she gets dinner ready. Dad and Neal power clean the downstairs (not that it’s all that dirty, but it makes Mom happy). Neal wants to talk to Dad about his mixed up feelings, but the words won’t come out. Dad tells Neal to set the table. When he hears a knock on the door, Neal ducks his head and focuses extra hard on making sure each plate is centered. Dad opens the door before Mom calls him back to the kitchen. Neal sneaks a few glances at the new arrivals as he puts out the silverware, particularly the woman who has to be his sister.

“Hello Neal.”

Neal looks up and smiles. “Hi Regina.” He feels a little better; he may not know Emma or how she’ll react to him, but Regina is one of his favorite people. (Yes, he knows that she and Mom and Dad didn’t always get along. But that was a long time ago.)

“Would you like some help?”

“Yes please. Can you take care of the glasses?” She nods and gets to work. His eyes wander to Emma again. “Is that her?”

He loves that Regina doesn’t even have to ask what he’s talking about. “Yes.”

“She’s pretty.”

Regina chuckles, but it’s not mean. “You should tell her that.”

Can you even say that to your own sister? Even if you can, Neal still has to actually talk to her. “Is she nice?” The question slips out before he thinks about it, and he cringes a little.

“She is. You know,” Neal looks up to meet Regina’s eyes, “she’s nervous about meeting you.”

 _Wait, what?_ “Why? I’m just a kid.”

At that moment, the Savior walks over. “Hi,” she says as she stops next to Regina. “I’m Emma.” She crouches down so she’s eye-level with Neal and holds out her hand. “You must be Neal.”

Scared or not, Mom and Dad have taught Neal exactly what to do in this situation. “Hi,” he says, taking her hand and shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles at him, and it looks just like Mom’s smile. “You too, kid.” Before she can say anything else, Mom and Dad appear, carrying food and ushering people to their seats. Neal hops in to his chair between Mom and Dad. Regina takes her usual place across the table from him, and Emma takes the chair that got added next to her.

Neal spends the first part of the meal just listening while Mom and Dad trade questions and answers with Emma. Regina speaks up occasionally, but for the most part she eats quietly, too. That changes when Emma starts talking about her kids. Neal knew about Henry (how could he not?) but he’s surprised to learn that Emma also has a daughter. Emma passes her phone over so Neal, Mom, and Dad can see pictures. “She’s my age!” Neal exclaims, then feels his face heat up as all the grown-ups look at him.

“Actually,” Emma says, smiling, “she’s a couple of years younger.” She and Regina start to tell a story about the trip the three of them took to the museum when Regina visited. Neal listens closely, and somehow the story turns into him also sharing about how much he likes dinosaurs and other animals and playing outside. Just like that, he’s part of the conversation. _Maybe having a big sister isn’t so bad._

* * *

 

Despite the emotionally exhausting day, Emma can’t sleep.

Maybe it’s because of the nap she took earlier. Maybe it’s information overload. After all, she did just regain quite a few years’ worth of memories; trying to re-orient herself to her actual life rather than the one she carried in her head these past eight years will be an on-going process. Maybe she can’t sleep because she didn’t get enough exercise today. Maybe she’s _over_ tired, like Mara sometimes gets. Maybe it’s one of her infrequent bouts of insomnia.

Whatever the reason, it’s past midnight, and Emma is still awake. If she were at home, she’d get up and head for her desk. Sleepless nights are great for catching up on paperwork; she’d log in to the precinct system from her laptop and take care of what she could electronically. Or she’d curl up on the couch with a book and a mug of cocoa. Tonight, however…

Emma takes a deep breath, inhaling Regina’s scent. The brunette’s back nestles against Emma’s front, Emma’s left arm tucked under their shared pillow while her right wraps around Regina’s waist, their fingers laced over Regina’s stomach. As loathe as she is to leave this spot, this moment in time, the urge to _do something_ starts thrumming in Emma’s muscles. So she carefully extricates herself and crawls out of bed. Maybe some water will help…

Quietly, Emma pads out of the room and down the hall. Enough light filters in through the front windows that she can see the stairs clearly, and Regina left a nightlight on in the kitchen, casting everything in soft tones befitting the middle of the night. Without much thought, Emma retrieves a glass and fills it from the tap. The cool liquid slides easily down her throat as she leans against the center island. Her thoughts continue to meander through her mind. Nothing in particular demands her attention, but enough different things tug at her focus that she doesn’t know where to start. Her parents, her brother, her old friends, being back in Storybrooke, her restored memories, her life over the last eight years, her kids, the life she has, the life she wants…

A soft noise interrupts her thoughts. Blinking, Emma pulls herself out of her head to see Regina leaning against the kitchen doorway, regarding her with sleepy eyes. Emma winces; she tried so hard not to disturb the brunette’s slumber. Even so, something inside her settles at the sight before her, especially when Regina offers a drowsy smile and simple extends a hand in her direction. Emma takes one more sip of water and sets the glass in the sink before crossing back to the older woman’s side. Hands entwined, Emma allows Regina to pull her back upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's back in session, so I'll update when I can. As ever, thanks for reading!


	22. Friday: Plans changed and made

The original plan for today called for Emma to join Regina at the stables for a few hours in the morning before driving back to New York. Emma has to work Sunday (she had to trade shifts with another detective so she could come to Storybrooke in the first place), thus Saturday is her one day to spend with her kids for this week. Regina had assured Emma when they first talked about this that she didn’t mind the shortened day in the slightest. The sight through the kitchen window this morning, however, promises to make that already limited amount of time together even less: A fresh dusting of snow covers everything, with more drifting down as Regina watches.

_Figures,_ Regina sighs. It might stop, it might not; either way, fretting about it won’t help. So Regina puts on water for coffee before pulling out her phone. She sends a text to Milo, letting him know that she’ll likely be in closer to noon. That done, she starts thinking about breakfast. Her cupboards look a little bare, but she has the necessary ingredients for French toast. Her phone pings as she mixes the batter, and she glances at it to see an acknowledgement from Milo. That settled, Regina falls in the easy, comforting rhythm of making breakfast. She’s just flipping over the last pieces of toast when Emma shuffles in.

“Something smells good,” the blonde declares, her voice still rough with sleep. She walks over to Regina and wraps her arms around the brunette from behind, mirroring their position from yesterday. “Good morning,” Emma murmurs before kissing just behind Regina’s ear.

Pleasant tingles run down Regina’s spine. She carefully removes the toast from the skillet and adds it to the nearby platter as she replies, “Good morning. I didn’t wake you, did I?” She turns off the burner.

“Nope.” Emma reaches towards the stack of toast, but Regina lightly slaps her hand away.

“That was supposed to be breakfast in bed.”

“So was yesterday’s omelet.” The blonde kisses Regina’s cheek. “Apparently, we suck at sleeping in.”

“Brilliant deduction, Holmes.” Regina laughs when Emma pinches her side. “Coffee should be ready.” The blonde squeezes her gently before stepping away. Regina relocates the plate of toast to the kitchen island. She’s pulling plates off the tray she meant to carry upstairs when she hears Emma mutter something that sounds suspiciously like, “oh, come on”. Looking up, Regina realizes Emma’s staring out the window at the still-falling snow.

Regina agrees with the sentiment, but staring at it won’t make the issue go away. She clears her throat, pulling Emma’s attention back inside. “Sorry,” the blonde says, pouring two mugs of coffee. She brings them to the island just as Regina finishes setting out the silverware. “Regina, I--”

“I know our plans may need to change,” Regina cuts her off. Emma smiles at her and pulls out her phone. While Regina serves for both of them, Emma opens her weather app and places the phone on the table where they both can see it.

Unfortunately, the light flurries they’re seeing now are only the beginning. A massive snowstorm is moving in from the north; Emma needs to leave in the next couple of hours or she risks being snowed in. “Oh come _on_!” Emma says again, this time at a higher volume and with more feeling.

Upsetting news or not, Regina can’t help the small smile that creeps across her face at Emma’s tone. “Very mature,” she comments. Emma sticks her tongue out at her, causing Regina to laugh. The blonde grins as she turns off the phone.

The pair eat in silence for a few minutes. Regina’s mind tries to race off, but she forces herself to stay here, in the moment, because who knows when she and Emma will be in the same place at the same time again, and isn’t _that_ a depressing thought?

“I still want that happy ending,” Emma’s voice breaks the silence. Regina’s eyes snap up to meet the detective’s. “Sorry. It just occurred to me that I never actually _said_ that to you since I drank the potion.”

Regina feels her lips spread into a wide smile.

* * *

 

Friday, 8:00 AM

_Plans changed due to weather. Leaving Maine soon, will be home mid-afternoon._

[thumbs up emoji] _Everything okay?_

_Yes. BTW check forecast for NYC._

_Will do. See you this afternoon. Love you._

_Love you too, kid._

_Twelve hours later_

“Mara’s finally asleep.”

Henry Swan looks up from his book as his mom collapses on the sofa. “She wouldn’t let you go, would she?”

“Held onto my arm through four stories,” Emma confirms as she tilts her head back to rest on the cushions.

“Sucker,” Henry teases. Normally, Emma enforces a strict limit of one bedtime story. Then again, Henry’s been reading two stories the last couple of nights, so he’s not really one to talk.

“Guilty conscience,” Emma corrects him. She lifts her head back up and looks at him. “Thanks for holding down the fort.”

“You’re welcome. Care to share what’s been going on?” Emma nods, but doesn’t speak right away. While he waits for her to collect her thoughts, Henry does the "cop thing" and mentally reviews what he knows.

When Ma mentioned that she was interested in someone again, Henry had been pleased. His dad was never in the picture, so Henry grew up watching Emma move in and out of relationships. It never bothered him; if anything, he always felt a little grateful to the people that could make Ma happy. After Mara arrived, though, Emma seemed to take a break from serious dating; with the exception of Nina, she never saw someone more than once or twice before moving on. (Actually, Henry had been kind of surprised Nina stuck around as long as she did, because dating someone with a toddler and a teenager could _not_ have been easy.) Then Regina arrived. Henry hasn’t met her, hasn’t spoken to her, and only knows about her from what Ma and Mara and Granny Ruth have told him. Even so, he can tell there’s something different about her, about her relationship with Emma. After all, Ma wouldn’t invite just anybody to spend the weekend. She _definitely_ wouldn’t introduce anyone to Granny, who’s basically her surrogate mother, unless she was serious about them.

While Henry still doesn’t know the particulars, he knows something went wrong during that weekend visit. Even in the midst of studying for finals, he still called and texted, and could tell how stressed Ma was. It wasn’t until he got home two days ago that she finally told him how Regina left in the middle of the night and hadn’t responded to texts or phone calls since. Then she asked/told him to hold down the fort because she was going to _drive to Maine_ to figure things out. If he needed proof of how special Regina is, that was it, because in Henry’s experience Emma Swan just doesn’t do things like that.

Emma shifts on the sofa, the noise pulling Henry out of his musings. As he watches, she reaches into her jeans pocket and pulls out a small glass bottle. “I promise to explain,” she says, holding the vial towards him, “but unless you drink this I’m afraid it’s not going to make much sense.”

Henry takes the bottle, holding it up to the light to examine the contents. He can tell Emma is taking this seriously, and she’s never steered him wrong before… “So once I drink this, you promise to tell me what’s been going on?”

“Cross my heart.”

As deals go, he’s made worse. So he puts his book aside and pulls out the bottle’s stopper. He salutes Emma with the vial, takes a breath, and downs the whole thing in one gulp.

* * *

 

True to the forecast, Storybrooke now lies silent under a blanket of snow at least six inches deep. Regina sits on the window seat in her room, watching as more continues to fall. She’s lost track of how long she’s sat here, but lights up and down the street are starting to go dark for the night.

Her phone rings, jolting her slightly. Regina glances at the screen. It’s a New York number, but not Emma. She could let it go to voicemail… On the third ring, she swipes to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Mom?”

Happiness. Pure unadulterated _joy_ shoots through Regina, along with sorrow at how different he sounds, how much time she’s missed. It takes a couple of tries to work her reply around the sudden lump in her throat. “Hello, Henry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	23. Saturday-Monday: Visits and apologies

Saturday, 7:30 AM

_Do you have time for a FaceTime call today? The kids (and I) want to see you._

_I’m free after 4._

[thumbs up emoji] _Perfect. We’ll see you then!_

 

Saturday, 10 AM

_Out of curiosity, what have you told them?_

_You mean about us?_

_Yes._

_Henry got most of the story, minus a few details here and there. I told Mara you and I had a fight, but we talked and made up. Both kids know that we’re dating._

[Three dots appear, disappear, and reappear.] _How did they react?_

_Henry literally said, “It’s about time!” and had this big grin on his face. Mara’s happy, too._

Saturday, 2:18 PM

_Greetings from Rockefeller Center!_ [Attached picture shows Emma, Henry, and Mara wearing skates, standing on the ice, and grinning.]

 

Regina barely makes it in to her office before her phone starts ringing. She pulls it out and answers the FaceTime call as she settles in her chair. Immediately, three smiling faces fill her screen, their simultaneous “Hi!” blasting out of the speakers.

“Hello,” Regina laughs, turning her phone sideways so she can see everyone better. Emma smiles at her from the back of the picture, half-hidden behind Mara, who must be sitting on her mother’s lap. Henry’s sitting to their right, leaning slightly so that he can be seen. Regina takes a moment to focus on him. She’s seen Emma’s more recent pictures, of course, but those still hadn’t managed to convey how much he’s actually changed. His hair is a little shorter than she remembers, but the dark stubble gracing his jaw serves as the biggest reminder of how much time she’s missed. _Never again._

“’Gina!” The camera shifts a little more towards Mara. “We went ice skating!”

“I know! Did you have fun?”

Mara nods enthusiastically. “I didn’t even fall!”

“That is amazing!”

“She did better than Ma,” Henry snickers, then yelps. “Hey! No tickling!”

Mara giggles, and Regina laughs. The conversation continues, with the children dominating. Mara talks about things that have happened since Regina visited, while Henry tells a few stories about the end of his most recent semester. Regina soaks in every word, enjoying the time spent with them, even through a phone. Eventually, though, it has to end. “Okay, kids,” Emma says as the latest tale concludes, “we need to get dinner going.”

To their credit, neither Henry nor Mara whine out loud at this statement. Henry sighs a little and offers Regina a little wave. Mara, however, looks right at Regina and says, “When can you come visit again?”

“Very soon,” Regina promises, exchanging a look with Emma. They’d talked before the detective left Storybrooke, because neither one of them relished the idea of spending an indefinite amount of time apart. “In fact,” she continues, a smile tugging at her lips, “I’ll see you in a week and a half.”

Emma looks just as surprised as the children. To be fair, Regina had said she likely wouldn’t be able to confirm anything until tomorrow; for once, the universe had been on her side. Three identical smiles shine out of the screen, and Regina grins right back. For the first time in a long time, she can’t wait for the holidays.

* * *

 

Saturday, 8:00 PM

_Sorry about earlier._

_Why are you apologizing?_

_Didn’t tell you I love, Mom. Just wasn’t sure what you and Ma have decided to tell Mara yet and didn’t want to confuse things._

_I love you too, Henry, but you have nothing to apologize for. Emma and I haven’t figured out everything yet. I’m impressed and thankful that you’re thinking of us and your sister._

_D’aww shucks._ ;) _Can’t wait to see you! Love you!_

_I love you, too._

 

Saturday, 9:30 PM

_I blame you for the way Mara bounced off the walls all evening. She’s just a *little* excited you’re coming._

_Sorry._

_Don’t be. She’s not the only one. I know you said a week and a half, but do you have an actual date in mind?_

_Either the 27th or the 28th. I’ll let you know which as soon as I can._

_Gotcha. How long can you stay?_

[Indicator dots appear and disappear several times.] _That’s up to you. I don’t wish to impose._

_You are NEVER an imposition. When do you have to be back in Storybrooke?_

_Not until the 4th._

_Please stay that whole time._

_I will. By the way, Henry texted me earlier._

_Can’t say I’m surprised._

_He apologized for not calling me Mom during our FaceTime call. Then he explained why he didn’t._

_What was his reason?_

[Image sent: A screenshot of Regina’s earlier conversation with Henry.]

_Damn, we have a smart kid._

_Agreed._

_Are you okay with continuing this discussion on Monday? Need to get some sleep since I’m working tomorrow._

_Certainly. I will talk to you then._

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma blurts out.

Regina’s face on the screen looks at her with amused curiosity. “I swear I just had this conversation with Henry. Why are _you_ apologizing?”

“Because I just spent two days sidestepping questions and giving only partial answers and I’m a mess. How did you manage to do that for _weeks_?”

Regina’s expression shifts to something Emma can’t quite define. “Honestly, my old diplomacy training probably had something to do with it. Queens don’t have the luxury of just blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.”

“Neither do mayors, I’d imagine.”

“Also true.” A teasing glint appears in Regina’s eye. “Although you did test that skill quite a bit when you first arrived in Storybrooke.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” Emma grins cheekily, eliciting a snort from the brunette. “Seriously, though, I need to figure out what I’m telling people. I mean, everyone in Storybrooke knows my whole life--”

“And mine.”

Emma nods agreement. “—and Henry’s taken care of now that his memory’s back. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But what about Ruth? Elisa and Keith? I mean, I’ve been telling them what I thought was my story for _years_. And what about Mara? What do I tell her?” Emma realizes she’s been ranting, and sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you.”

“Would it help if I said I’ve been thinking about the same thing?”

Now Emma feels like an idiot, because of _course_ Regina’s been worrying over the same thing. Emma’s not alone in this. She sighs again. “It’s official: I’m incredibly self-centered. Are you sure you still want to date me?”

Thankfully, that teasing look returns. “We-ell…”

“I’m a good cook.”

“I think I’ve proven my culinary skills over the years.”

“I’m cute?”

That earns a proper laugh. “Maybe I will keep you.” Emma grins. “As to your questions,” the other woman continues, sobering up, “what do you want to tell your friends?”

“Ideally, everything. The truth. But would they believe me?”

Regina shrugs. “That is up to them.”

Emma takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. Regina’s right. But… “What about Mara?” Emma brings up the one person Regina hasn’t mentioned yet.

“If she’s anything like her brother, she’ll believe you in an instant.” Regina smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Emma can guess her thoughts. “Hey, she loves you. The news that you were once someone else isn’t going to change that.”

“Isn’t it? As far as her stories go, I’m the villain. It’ll be…” she trails off, looking away from the camera.

Emma’s chest tightens at how broken Regina looks. “Henry all over again?” The brunette closes her eyes, nods, and Emma dearly wishes they were having this conversation in person, that she could just reach out and hug the other woman. “Regina? Please look at me.” Slowly, Regina does. “Henry forgave you. He loves you. Mara follows her big brother’s lead. Even if she didn’t, she already loves you. She may be a kid, but she knows that people change. Learning you were a different person a long time ago? Okay, she may have to think about it. But what’s going to matter most is who you are _now._ And guess what? Who you are now is pretty damn amazing.”

A tear traces a path down Regina’s cheek, but the brunette offers up a tiny smile. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

Emma smiles softly in return. “You’re welcome.” She debates asking if Regina wants to help explain things to Mara, but quickly decides against it. Regina would just get even more stressed out, and really, how hard can it be to talk to a six year old? Instead, Emma decides to change the subject. “Hey, did you manage to get your schedule figured out?”

“Yes.” Regina swipes at her face and shifts a little. “I can come down on the twenty-seventh.”

Emma feels her smile brighten, but before she can reply, she hears the front door open. She looks up from her spot on the couch as the voices of her children drift down the hallway. “Hey,” she turns back to the screen, “the kids just came in. Do you want to talk to them?”

“Not tonight.”

“Alright. Talk to you soon.”

Regina smiles. “Until then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thanks for reading!


	24. Tuesday-Monday: Counting the Days

Tuesday, 10:30 AM

_May I give Snow and David your phone number?_

[A thumbs up emoji appears.]

 

Tuesday, 11:50 AM

_Sorry, I meant to give them my number before I left Storybrooke._

_It’s not a problem. Snow just has a lot of questions and I didn’t see any reason she couldn’t ask you directly._

_She’s texted me four times already._ [A few seconds later] _Make that five. Isn’t she at school???_

_It’s lunchtime. She should stop once the students are back in class._

Tuesday, 3:26 PM

_Fifteen. Separate. Messages._

Tuesday, 4:05 PM

_You have my sympathies._

_I’m about ready to block her number._

_If you tell her you’re feeling overwhelmed, she’ll back off._

_Really? Doesn’t sound like the Snow White I remember._

_She’s changed._

_I’ve got 15 messages that say otherwise._

_Talk to her._

_Yes, ma’am._

Tuesday, 7:30 PM

_You were right._

 

Wednesday, 7:48 AM

_I’m an idiot._

_You get it from your parents._

_:P_

_To what idiocy are you referring?_

_Literally woke up to the realization that I took a fairy tale character to see “Into the Woods”._

_You didn’t know that at the time._

_Still feel like I owe you another apology._

_You don’t. As I told you then, I enjoyed the show._

_Honest?_

_Yes. As you said at the time, it’s a very different way of looking at the stories._ [A pause.] _Truthfully, I prefer it to the sanitized versions most people know. It feels more real._

_I agree. And I’m glad you enjoyed it._

Wednesday, 12:30 PM

_How did you and my mother manage to become friends?_

_I don’t quite know. Circumstances in the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke forced us to work together. After defeating Zelena, we just continued._

_But you can work with someone without being friends._

_True._

_So?_

_As trite as it sounds, we finally managed to talk about all that has happened between us._

_That must’ve been one hell of a conversation._

_I think that is the understatement of the year._

_And that fixed everything?_

_Not right away, no. But it let us make a fresh start._

_Wow._ [Indicator dots appear, disappear, and reappear.] _Out of curiosity, how do the two of you define your relationship now?_

_Simply as friends. I was never comfortable being known as Snow’s stepmother._

_Fair enough._

_Why do you ask?_

_Planning to talk to Mara within the next couple of days, and I know she’s going to ask. Just want to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing._

_Thank you._

 

Wednesday, 4:30 PM

_Mara knows._

Emma worries, when she sends the message, how Regina will respond. The fact that Regina doesn’t immediately reply isn’t surprising, so Emma does her best to tamp down on her concern and keep moving with her routine. Getting Mara to bed right now takes a little more patience, a little more time; between the holidays and Regina’s impending visit the kid practically vibrates with excitement. Of course, this afternoon’s revelations only add fuel to the fire. Emma spends most of the evening fielding questions about Storybrooke and its inhabitants and how Emma and Henry fit in to the stories. Several times, Emma mentally kicks herself for not waiting until Henry gets back from his skiing trip. But he and his friends won’t return to the city until Christmas Eve, and Emma just couldn’t bear the thought of lying-by-omission to her daughter any longer. Besides, better that Mara gets over this initial rush of questions before Regina arrives, because who knows how the former Evil Queen would handle a six-year-old’s excited, unthinking, constant inquiries?

So Emma answers questions while shepherding Mara through dinner and bath time and teeth brushing. Story time consists of Mara grabbing several fairy tale books (some based on Disney movies, some not) off of her shelf and demanding Emma point out facts and falsehoods in each.

Finally, though, the child collapses. Emma gently kisses her daughter’s forehead, puts the books away, and turns off the bedside lamp. She checks her phone as she heads to the living room; still no reply from Regina, although the message thread indicates she read the text. Shaking her head, Emma presses the brunette’s number.

She hears enough rings that she starts to wonder if Regina will just let the call go to voicemail, but the last ring cuts off midway through. Silence greets her, and Emma can just picture Regina, curled up in a ball, trying to give voice to her traitorous thoughts. So Emma speaks first. “She hasn’t stopped asking questions about magic.” That at least gets a weak laugh. “And she wants to see pictures of Henry as a baby.”

“I’ll try to bring a few with me.” Regina’s voice sounds small, but at least she’s talking.

“I was right, by the way,” Emma continues. “She still loves you. Actually, I think the fact that you can do proper magic might mean she likes you more than me.”

That earns another small laugh. “Did you tell her you can also do magic?” Regina asks, sounding more like herself.

“No. She’d want a demonstration, and I haven’t tried anything in years. Does magic even work outside Storybrooke?”

“I don’t know. I certainly haven’t tried.” A pause. “What does Mara think of her new family?”

Emma laughs. “I wish I had taken a picture of her face when I told her who her grandparents are.”

“I can imagine.”

“Although her next question was if she can meet Princess Tiana, so…”

Regina’s laugh bursts out, full and rich, bringing a smile to Emma’s face. “If your mother ever hears about that…”

“I know, right?” Emma chuckles. Once the laughter dies down, she continues, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” Emma swears she can hear the embarrassed smile. “Thank you for calling.”

“You’re welcome. Do you--” A yawn on the other end of the line cuts Emma off, and she chuckles. “Someone’s tired.”

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long couple of days.”

“No worries. Talk to you later?”

“Of course. Good night, Emma.”

“Good night, Regina.”

* * *

 

Thursday, 8:45 AM

_May I bring Christmas presents for Henry and Mara?_

_Certainly!_

Thursday, 4:30 PM

_Mara just handed me this:_ [Attached image shows a handwritten list titled “things to do when Gina visits”. Entries include “ice skate”, “library”, “Monopoly”, “movies”, and “learn about majic”.]

_I look forward to each of those activities._

Friday evening finds Regina re-entering the stables, stamping snow off of her boots as she hangs up the shovel. After a long day here, she cannot wait to get home and just _sit down_. Her phone rings just as she pulls off her gloves. She quickly pulls the device from her pocket, smiling when she sees her son’s name on the screen. “Hello, Henry.”

“I thought it was only fair to warn you.”

Regina can tell by his tone of voice that it’s not a life-or-death situation, but his greeting (or lack thereof) still throws her. “Warn me?”

“About the movie marathon awaiting you in New York.”

“Oh?” Regina’s mouth curls into a smile. She can guess where this is headed. “And what films will be included in this event?”

“The entire Star Wars saga!” He sounds so childlike, so much like _her_ Henry, that she can’t help laughing. “Hey, this is serious business!” But he’s laughing too, and the conversation has to wait until they both stop.

“I thought you were skiing,” Regina comments once she gets herself back under control.

“Dinner break. We’ll probably head back out for a couple of hours and then call it a night. What--” Someone else’s voice faintly calls Henry’s name. “Sorry, got to go. Love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.”

“Can’t wait to see you!” The line goes dead. Regina smiles as she puts the phone away. _Four more days._

 

Friday, 8:35 PM

_New Year’s Eve._

_What about it?_

_Would you be okay staying up until midnight?_

_Certainly. By the way, Henry called me earlier. Something about a Star Wars marathon?_

_I did warn you. ;)_

 

Saturday, 10:30 AM

[Several images sent showing the Swan family playing in the snow in the park.]

 

Saturday, 12:14 PM

[Video sent showing several horses playing in the snow at Regina’s stables.]

 

Regina spends Christmas morning at the stables before stopping by Robin’s place to deliver Roland’s present. Even by Storybrooke standards, the neighborhood known as Little Sherwood is something of an oddity: Grown out of the Merry Men’s first encampment in a small clump of trees, all of the dwellings embrace nature in their structure, from houses (cottages, really, nothing fancy) built around trees to more than a few tree-top residences. Robin’s place is built against a series of trees that grew in a (relatively) straight line, which form one side of the building. Regina breathes deeply as she knocks on the door; the smells here always trigger a hint of nostalgia for the Enchanted Forest.

Robin pulls open the door. “Hello, Regina.” He turns his head, calls, “Roland!” He turns back and half-smiles at her. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she returns. In some ways, this feels like just the other times they’ve broken up, taken a break, whatever you want to call it. Thankfully, Robin never objected to Regina’s presence in Roland’s life, so even when they weren’t on the best of terms she’d still come by to pick up the boy and spend time with him.

A thump signals Roland’s arrival as his socked feet skid on the hardwood floor. “Merry Christmas Regina!” he greets her, smiling widely.

She smiles warmly at him, holds out his present. “Merry Christmas, Roland.”

“Thanks!” The boy takes the package, wraps her in a quick hug, and disappears back into the house.

Robin shakes his head at his son’s manners. “Would you like to come in for a moment?”

“No thank you.”

He cocks his head to the side, studying her. “You look happy.”

Her cheeks heat up slightly. “I am.”

“Good.” He smiles at her, a proper one this time. “Take care of yourself, Regina.”

“You too, Robin.” She turns and walks back to her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


	25. Tuesday: Welcome back to New York

Tuesday, 7:03 AM

_Leaving shortly. See you this afternoon._

_:D Am at work today, but the kids will be there waiting for you._

Tuesday, 7:05 AM

_BTW Henry has your parking pass._

Tuesday, 3:45 PM

_Mom’s here!_

 

From the time she got to work this morning, Emma’s day has well and truly sucked. Elisa wasn’t in. The paperwork mountain on Emma’s desk had to be ignored because she caught a new case. Said new case involves both child abuse and sex crimes. The couple of leads Emma found both unfortunately look to be dead ends. And now the damn elevator is taking too long. Emma waits in the garage long enough to seriously consider taking the stairs (twenty flights can’t be that bad, can it?) when a chime finally signals the elevator’s arrival. Emma spends the ride up to her floor bouncing on the balls of her feet, wishing she knew enough magic to _poof_ herself into her apartment and glad that no one else seems to need the elevator just now.

Finally, the car slows, stops, and the door opens. Emma doesn’t run down the hall, but she does lengthen her stride as much as possible. She fumbles her keys when she reaches her door, and forces herself to stop and just take a deep breath. Having restored her heart rate to something approaching normal, Emma manages to let herself in.

Laughter echoes down the hallway. Emma quickly kicks off her boots and hangs up her coat before making her way further inside. She reaches the kitchen and freezes at the sight in front of her: Regina, seated at the dining room table, with Mara in her lap and Henry in the chair next to her. Two photo albums are open before them, and as she watches Regina points to a particular shot. There’s a roaring in Emma’s ears, so she can’t hear exactly what’s said, but Mara starts giggling again and Henry acts all huffy, but he’s smiling, too. He looks up, catches sight of her, and his grin gets even wider.

“Hi Ma!” His voice manages to break through the roaring, chases it away completely.

Regina and Mara both turn to look at her, as well, also smiling. “Mama!” Mara says happily, “Look what ‘Gina brought!”

“What did Regina bring?” Emma manages to ask through her own grin as she walks over. She drops into the chair on Regina’s other side, and reaches out to wrap her hand around the brunette’s. “Hi,” she greets the other woman.

“Hi,” Regina returns, squeezing her hand. Then Mara demands that Emma look at the picture of baby Henry, and as Emma looks down to do just that, she feels her manic energy of just moments ago bleed away, replaced with an overwhelming contentment at finally having her family together.

 

Later that night, after the kids are in bed, Regina and Emma sit on the couch. Well, Regina’s sitting, anyway; Emma’s stretched out on her back, eyes closed, with her head in Regina’s lap. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you’re here?” Emma says.

“Once or twice,” Regina answers dryly as she runs her hand through the blonde’s hair.

“Well, I’m saying it one more time, then.” Emma opens her eyes and looks up at the brunette. “Seriously. Knowing that you would be here when I got home was one of the only things that made my day bearable.”

Regina’s cheeks turn a fetching shade of pink as she smiles. For a moment, she looks as though she’s going to say something, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, she leans down. Sensing her intentions, Emma pushes herself up slightly. Their lips meet, and any residual stress from Emma’s day finally disappears.

The kiss starts out relatively chaste, but then lips part, and the next thing Emma knows she’s levering herself into a sitting position while trying to maintain contact with Regina. She only manages because the older woman backs off until the blonde is upright. Emma quickly spins around, heart pounding, more than ready to resume kissing Regina senseless, but then she catches sight of Regina: More flushed, breathing hard, absolutely gorgeous, and… pulling away?

Emma quickly checks her momentum. “Are you okay?”

Regina nods, but her gaze drops to her lap. “I… I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

Emma reaches out and wraps her hand around Regina’s. “Okay.”

Regina doesn’t look back up, but she squeezes Emma’s hand. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

Emma gently lifts their joined hands and plants a kiss to the back of Regina’s. “The day I don’t listen is the day you have permission to kick my ass.”

“Then I believe I should have done so some time ago,” Regina teases, looking up through her lashes at Emma.

“Who says you didn’t?” That earns a quiet chuckle. “Come on,” Emma continues, tugging gently at Regina’s hand, “let’s get some sleep.”

Regina smiles softly at her, and together the pair gets up from the couch and makes their way to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended this to be part of a longer chapter. However, the next scene refuses to cooperate, so I figured I should just go ahead and post. Thanks for reading!


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